


Morgan Winchester: Licensed Junior

by Molli3



Series: Morgan Winchester [2]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Big Brothers, Corporal Punishment, Discipline, First Kiss, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, Little Sisters, Love, Non-Consensual Spanking, Plot, Plot Twists, Punishment, Sequel, Spanking, Vampires, Werewolves, Winchester Sister
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-22
Updated: 2018-01-10
Packaged: 2018-12-05 14:41:52
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 48
Words: 172,040
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11580162
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Molli3/pseuds/Molli3
Summary: SEQUEL! This is Morgan's second story, continuation from Witch Winchester. She's learning to live without magic and trying to be a normal 16-year-old girl, but she's still a Winchester even without magic, so how normal can that be... A boy she met on a trip into town with Dean is still interested, especially now that Morgan will be attending the local high school with him, but things get heated in more than just the usual teenage way...





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Sam does have an old body style Mustang, we saw it in the season 12 episode The Raid when he goes to meet Mary at the BMOL HQ- Supernatural Wiki says it's his Charger from season 6 that got smashed by Cas when he fell through the window- not even close, but hey not everybody is a carfreak like me ;) 
> 
> I stay on canon and this story will have some Season 12 parts brought in, in a different way of course, but it fits and hey the SPN writers know what they're doing so I'll give nods when they're due. 
> 
> This one picks up a little slower than Witch Winchester, but there is a plot, there's danger and of course the Winchesters are in the center of it...

Sam had been relentless about whether Morgan wanted to finish her high school diploma online or go to the high school in Lebanon, something that would take a significant amount of effort, but he continued to remind her was completely doable if that's what she wanted. Morgan hadn't made a decision. She'd never sat through an entire day of classes before, and after hearing Claire's tales of high school, wasn't sure the whole thing was something she was up for, but her curiosity for a new experience kept her from giving Sam a straight answer. Dean was all for home schooling, repeatedly brushing off the idea of her going to a regular school, causing private arguments between the brothers every time Sam overhead their older brother make a negative comment towards the idea.

"She has what?" Morgan overheard Dean asking Sam irritably in the kitchen one morning before she entered, "A year, maybe two before she's supposed to graduate? What's the point, Sam?"

"If she doesn't wanna go I'm not gonna make her," Sam insisted, "but I think it'd be good for her to be around other kids her own age, and I think the only reason she hasn't already said that's what she wants is 'cause you 'n Claire keep tellin' her awful things about school."

"Maybe Claire has," Dean began defensively.

"So, that wasn't you who said high school's like a war you have to fight your way out of?" she could hear the sarcastic smirk on Sam's face, still staying out of eyesight in the hall.

"Oh, yeah," Dean chuckled, "but Claire showed her Mean Girls."

"Yeah," Sam scoffed, "you definitely weren't involved in that at all."

"It's a funny movie," Dean snickered and looked at Morgan as she walked into the kitchen, "Mornin'."

"Mornin'," she offered both brothers a tightlipped smile while grabbing the half full pot of coffee and pouring a mug.

"Hey, Morgan," Sam started and she rolled her eyes before turning to him at the table with his laptop in front of him, "I don't wanna rush you on your decision for school, but we're kinda at the end of the line, kid. If you wanna go to school here we gotta get you enrolled soon."

"Yeah," she shrugged at Sam, taking a sip of her coffee, "I think the online thing's a better way to go."

Dean smiled at Sam who scowled at him before returning his attention to Morgan with shock, shaking his head as he spoke, "Why? You're not gonna get the same opportunities, Morgan, to be around other kids, join a sport or club-"

"I thought it was my decision," Morgan inclined her head at him.

"It is," Sam nodded, "but I don't want you to miss out on the chance to go to school because you've heard ridiculous crap from those two," he glared at Dean quickly before looking back at Morgan.

"But the online school has the same classes," she insisted, "I'll learn the same stuff."

"Academically," Sam shrugged, "they're the same basically, but going to school with other kids will give you a chance to make friends and do some things normal teenagers do."

"Yeah, 'cause normal's still in the cards," she scoffed.

"Why not?" Sam challenged.

"Cause up until the Devil killed me last month I was a witch," she smirked at Sam, catching an amused grin from Dean out of the corner of her eye, "I've thought about it Sam, 'n it just doesn't make sense. We have to use a fake address, obviously, and I know you already worked that out, but you can't honestly think that the two of you are gonna be able to take me there every day and clearly I can't take a bus since we don't live where they'd think we do, which would just cause more problems-"

"Why wouldn't we-" Sam began to argue, but Morgan shook her head.

"You guys have been gone every few days since we got home," she implored, "I'm fine, trust me, I can take care of myself, but unless y'plan on lettin' me drive one of your cars, the simple logistics of getting there and back won't work."

"Well that's not happening," Dean chuckled and Sam shot him an angry scowl.

"So, if you could get there you'd go?" Sam crossed his arms and leaned back in his chair, narrowing his eyes at her with a smirk, "'Cause I'll let'cha borrow my car."

Morgan and Dean's green eyes widened at Sam whose face didn't change as he stared challengingly at his sister. Her stomach turned, realizing she was stuck if he'd come up with a solution to that problem, she'd have to admit she was nervous about going to a real school. Although the prospect of driving herself made the idea of braving the new experience less nerve wracking all of a sudden. Dean, however, finally recovered from the shock of Sam's proclamation.

"Don't'cha think that's somethin' we need t'talk about, Sammy?" the oldest asked in a low, threatening tone.

"What?" Sam shrugged, "She's sixteen, I'll take her t'get her license, 'n she can borrow my Mustang."

"The hell she can!" Dean glared indignantly at his brother, "It's a V6!"

"That means?" Morgan interjected before their debate inevitably accelerated.

"Too fast f'r'you," Dean barely turned his head as he glowered at Sam.

"Thought you said it was slower than a broken turtle," Sam responded calmly.

"When you drive yeah," the oldest mumbled and sipped his coffee.

"Morgan," Sam sighed, turning towards her, "you'll be very careful with my car if I let you use it, right?" she nodded earnestly at him, "Go the speed limit 'n not go anywhere besides school unless you okay it with us?" again she nodded at him, but Dean shook his head adamantly.

"No," he scoffed, "absolutely not, that thing has way too much power 'n I've seen your reaction to speed, kid."

"But that's when you're driving," Morgan insisted sweetly, "I'd never trust myself to go as fast as I know you can," she caught Sam's eyeroll and smirk at her well-placed praise.

"So, you really wanna go t'school?" Dean sighed with defeat.

"Is it really that bad?" she asked him with a concerned grimace.

Dean shook his head, "No, it's really not, 'n I'm sorry if I made y'nervous about it."

"S'ok," Morgan shrugged, "I mean I'm kinda nervous about it anyway. I've never really been around other kids, we prob'ly don't even have anything in common."

"Why'd y'think that?" Sam knitted his eyebrows at her.

"I don'know," she shrugged, looking at her coffee, "'cause my life isn't anything like theirs' 'n my past," Morgan trailed off, not needing to explain further to them where her thoughts were at.

"You don't need to explain y'rself to anyone," Dean stated firmly.

"I know it's just," Morgan shrugged and stopped talking again.

"I think you'd be surprised," Sam smiled, "an' if you don't like it after you give it a shot you can do the online school."

"Yeah?" Morgan brightened at the idea she could try it without committing before she really knew what to expect.

"If after a few weeks you don't wanna go back you don't have to," Sam promised.

"Okay," she nodded.

"Perfect," the younger brother clapped the oldest on the back, smiling at their sister, "tomorrow's Monday, you 'n I can head in together in the mornin'."

"Tomorrow?" Morgan felt her stomach twist again.

"What's tomorrow?" Claire entered the kitchen, grabbing a mug of coffee for herself.

"Morgan's goin' to school," Sam said proudly.

"Ugh gross," Claire groaned.

"Hey," Dean snapped quietly, "no more'a that crap."

"If I don't like it I don't hafta keep goin'," she shrugged at her friend.

"But y'r'gonna try 'n like it, right?" Sam lowered his gaze at her, grinning contently when she nodded at him, "Good, ok, well I've had a social, birth certificate 'n medical records made up, plus some docs makin' us y'r'legal guardians-"

"Both of us?" Dean questioned.

"Yeah," Sam nodded, "figured it'd be easier since I'm gonna deal with all the school stuff, don't worry," he scoffed good-naturedly at his brother, "you're listed first."

"Damn right," Dean nodded curtly and Morgan giggled as Sam shook his head.

"You're gonna need some stuff," Sam announced, standing and stretching his arms over his head, "go get dressed you 'n I can run into town."

"Cool!" Morgan smiled and finished her coffee.

"Can I go?" Claire asked eagerly.

"Y'r'report done?" Dean raised his eyebrows at her, standing and downing the last of his coffee.

"No," she rolled her eyes.

"Better get'it done," he shrugged, dumping his mug in the sink after Morgan.

"We killed a werewolf," Claire whined, "it's not exactly novel worthy."

"Good thing nobody's askin' you f'r'a novel," Sam interjected, "but you agreed to write a report on every hunt we include you in, unless you don't wanna be included?"

With an overdramatic sigh, the blonde rolled her eyes and left the kitchen with her coffee and her friend right behind her. Morgan took a quick shower and changed into a pair of jeans, her old army boots, a green flannel and tossed her blue coat on before leaving her bedroom. Claire was in the library, hunched over a table with pages of notes and newspaper articles spread around her, Sam closed a book he was reading in the armchair when Morgan entered the open room.

"Ready?" he asked, setting the red volume on the side table next to a full decanter of scotch.

"Yeah," she nodded, and waved at Claire as Sam led her towards the garage.

In the back of the line on the far side was a sleek, black, two-door Ford Mustang, Dean slammed the hood as the younger two approached and Morgan smiled at the sharp looking sports car.

"What're y'doin'?" Sam chuckled, taking the keys out of his pocket.

"Just givin' it a quick once over," Dean wiped his hands on a greasy rag and shoved it in his jeans pocket, "Doesn't get driven much, just checkin' the oil."

"Thanks," Sam smirked, "I was gonna do that."

"Well, now y'don't have to," Dean shrugged, "Have fun, grab some beer would'ja?"

Sam nodded as he got in the driver's side of the dark coupe and Morgan gave Dean a quick hug before jumping into the passenger seat. Dean pulled the large wooden double doors open and Sam flipped on the headlights as they cruised slowly into the cavernous tunnel.

"Have you figured out how to get outta here yet?" Sam asked as he took the first turn and she nodded at him, "Alright, so you're gonna need a backpack, notebooks, pens, prob'ly some gym shoes-"

"Gym shoes?" Morgan narrowed her eyes in the darkness at him.

"Yeah," Sam smiled, "they're not gonna let y'wear those boots in gym class."

"Oh," Morgan squinted as the tunnel ended and they pulled into the bright sunlight and felt the car slow to a stop.

"You're drivin'," Sam patted her knee and got out of the car, Morgan breathed out slowly to calm her immediate nerves and pushed open the passenger door.

The Mustang was much smaller than the Impala and the front seats were not connected so she could scoot forward without forcing Sam's long legs into the dashboard. Sam moved the steering wheel for her and showed her how to adjust the side view mirrors, before pointing to the dashboard and starting to explain the gauges.

"That's the speedometer," she said before he had a chance and responded to his confused expression, "Dean showed me, I drove the Impala f'r'like two minutes."

Sam nodded, "Alright, well the shifter's here on this one," pointing to the console between them, "push that button to slide it into drive, 'n let's see what'cha got."

Without waiting for further instructions, Morgan put her foot on the brake, pulled the shifter down until the red line hovered over the D on the dashboard. The accelerator was a lot more sensitive to the touch than the Impala, but Morgan was careful not to lurch the peppy sports car forward and eased it quickly up to twenty miles per hour. Sam reminded her of Dean's advice to keep her eyes on the horizon and it was far easier to see passed the shorter hood on the sports car, before she realized it, Morgan was cruising at just under the fifty miles per hour speed limit and feeling surprisingly confident. Sam didn't talk as much as Dean, very occasionally offering a quick piece of advice, but mostly he let her drive without interruption. When they neared the big box store, Sam pointed to a spot in the back, away from other cars, and instructed her to park there to Morgan's obvious horror.

"You can do it," he insisted, "it's just like turnin' in here, just get it between those lines."

With a heavy sigh, Morgan turned the Mustang slowly into the parking lot, concentrating on the lines Sam had directed her towards, but slammed on the brakes as a minivan hurried up the lane. She didn't hear the reassuring words from Sam as she shook her head from the sudden onset of nerves and with a clear path, turned into the spot, tapping the brakes a few times before stopping the car completely. Sam pinched his fingers together and pointed forward with a smile, throwing Morgan a thumbs up when she'd brought the car another foot into the spot.

"Nice job," Sam extended a fist that was promptly met with her own.

"This is way easier than the Impala," she rubbed her clammy hands on the steering wheel, turned the ignition off and extended the keys to Sam.

"Hold on to 'em," Sam shrugged, pushing open the passenger door, "you're drivin' home."

Morgan did her best to hold in a squeal as she slipped the keys into her pocket, hit the lock button on the inside of the door and joined Sam through the parking lot to the massive building.

Neither of them wanted to be there long, and found the school supplies section quickly, not that there was much of anything left to necessitate a section anymore. The school year had started almost a month before so everything had been more than picked over and the store wasn't in a hurry to replenish supplies after the demand was filled. Morgan wasn't picky, however, and saw a dark brown canvas bag under a few other backpacks with bright cartoons on them and tugged it out by a shoulder strap. Venturing down an aisle of notebooks, folders and pens, Sam told her she'd need about seven notebooks, to be on the safe side, but chuckled when she grabbed a stack of only purple ones.

"Just purple huh?" he asked, tossing a few pens in the brown backpack.

"It's my favorite color," she shrugged at him, slipping them in with the pens.

"I didn't know that," Sam smirked, but his grin faltered as he asked, "is that why your-" he interrupted himself and offered an apologetic look at his sister.

"I don't know," Morgan shrugged, it was still painful to think about her lost powers sometimes, but she didn't want Sam to feel bad for accidently bringing it up, "I never thought about it, but maybe."

"I think the shoes are this way," Sam jerked his head towards the back of the store, actively changing the topic to both their relief.

"So gym?" she inclined her head after a few hurried steps to catch up with her tallest brother.

"Yeah, it's a class where you run 'n play sports 'n stuff," Sam explained, turning down another aisle after catching sight of the shoe department sign.

"So am I still gonna have t'do PT with you guys then?" she smirked.

"Yup," Sam grinned at her good-natured scoff, Morgan didn't mind the training sessions with her brothers and Claire, except when they were really early.

She followed Sam into an aisle where again the pickings were slim and seeing only a few options in her size, none of which Morgan cared one way or the other for, he said they'd stop by a shoe store near the pancake house down the street. Sam's pronouncement was quickly answered by a loud growl from Morgan's stomach and both of them laughed.

"Me too," he nodded, "How pissed d'you think Dean'll be if he finds out we got waffles without him?"

Morgan smirked at him, holding her index finger to her pursed lips.

A few minutes later they were walking towards the Mustang at the back of the parking lot and Morgan expertly slid the key into the trunk lock how she'd seen them do on the Impala dozens of times and tossed her new backpack full of supplies into the empty trunk as Sam set a large case of beer next to it.

"Thanks again, Sam," she smiled at him, shutting the lid with a thud.

"Of course, Sweetie," he smiled, pulling her into a quick side hug, "I'm really glad you decided to give school a shot."

"I'm still nervous about it," she gave him a slanted glance over the roof as they opened the car doors.

"I'd be surprised if y'weren't," Sam shrugged with an encouraging grin before they both dropped into the low bucket seats.

He gave her a few points on reversing and then let her try to pull out of the spot, cranking the steering wheel too hard the first time as she felt the tires bump into the curb of the parking lot median. Sam smiled and told her to shrug it off, straighten out and start again, this time silently using his finger to direct her when to turn the wheel and at his subtle instruction, she smiled after finding herself in the open parking lot lane. It was a short drive to the pancake house, conveniently situated in the same parking lot as the strip mall with the shoe store, and they both agreed to eat first.

"Is it breakfast time?" Sam peered at his watch and chuckled, "Nope, not too far off though, guess we got home pretty late last night."

"Good hunt?" Morgan asked before Sam opened the glass door for her.

"Yeah," he nodded, "Claire's definitely improving. Two, please," he gestured Morgan to follow the hostess ahead of him and a moment later they sat at a window booth right where the Mustang was parked.

"Sam," Morgan began, her eyes on the dark two door coupe, "I like driving that way better than the Impala."

"Yeah," he smirked, "she can be a bit intimidating, I remember learning t'drive Dad had to sit in the back so I could scoot the seat close enough for my toes to touch the pedals, Dean's knees were in his chest," Sam laughed lightly at the memory, "of course I was thirteen, it got easier the next few years when I gained a few inches."

"Just a few," Morgan giggled and they both opened their menus smiling.

"Thanks for stoppin' in, I'm Bryan and I'll be takin' care of you," their waiter's familiar voice dragged Morgan's focus from her menu to his handsome face and both of them flushed a little before he stammered at her through a small smile, "uh, hi, how y'been?"

"Good," she nodded with a nervous grin, her insides fluttering strangely.

"You two know each other?" Sam narrowed his eyes, looking between the young man and his blushing sister.

"We've met," Morgan mumbled, trying to hide her flushed cheeks but they refused to release the silly smirk on her face.

"Are you another brother?" Bryan asked Sam, who shot a quick understanding eyebrow raise at his sister.

"Sam," he nodded at the young man, "So, you've met Dean?"

"Must'a been," Bryan chuckled sharing a look with Morgan, "Drives a beautiful Chevy, looks like he's ready to kill someone?"

"That's the one," Sam smirked.

Morgan thought how different Bryan looked in slacks and a black pull over with his hair fixed while she continued stealing glances up at him, occasionally meeting his eye causing a darkening of color in her already pink cheeks.

"Can I get you some coffee?" he asked them.

"Yeah, thanks," Sam answered, Morgan just nodded at the young man as he left the table and her brother leaned across the table with an amused expression, "So's that the crawler?"

"Sa-am," Morgan implored in a hushed tone and he leaned back chuckling softly.

Bryan returned quickly with two mugs and a thermos pitcher of coffee, asking if they were ready to order. Morgan smiled at the quick wink he shot her on his way to the kitchen when they'd finished, Sam scoffed and shook his head.

"Kid's got guts," he muttered, sipping his coffee.

"That's what Dean said," Morgan couldn't wipe the silly smile off her face and giggled when Bryan peaked out of the kitchen at her before ducking back behind the wall.

Morgan and the young waiter continued to steal glances at each other, Sam was not oblivious to the mild flirtations, but didn't say anything, keeping an amused smirk on his face and occasionally shaking his head a little.

"Thanks f'r'comin' in today," Bryan set the check in front of Sam when they'd finished.

"Thanks, kid," Sam nodded, picking the tab off the table and sliding out of the booth with a hand to stop Morgan from following, "I'm gonna go pay I'll be right back."

She definitely caught her brother's sideways grin as he stepped away, leaving her alone briefly with the handsome young man.

"So, are you home schooled?" Bryan inclined his head a little at her.

"No, we've been outta town on family stuff," Morgan repeated the perfected lie, "I'm actually supposed to start at Lebanon tomorrow."

Bryan's smile brightened, "I'm a Senior there, you'll hafta let me show y'around."

"I'd like that," she nodded with the same silly smile she couldn't shake and slid out of the seat as Sam returned to the table.

"I'll see y'tomorrow then," the young man assured her before turning to Sam, extending his hand confidently, "It was good t'meet you, sir."

Morgan saw the surprise in Sam's face, but he grinned at the younger man and shook his hand, "You too, kid."

"See you tomorrow," Morgan followed Sam out of the restaurant, turning once to look back at Bryan and seeing he was still watching her.

"So, that's the kid Dean scared the crap out of?" Sam chuckled as they crossed the parking lot to the strip mall.

"Yeah," she giggled, "he seems nice."

Sam made a noncommittal sound, "Is he in high school?"

"Senior," she nodded, walking through the door to the shoe store Sam held open.

"Yeah, we're gonna hafta figure out what grade y'r'in tomorrow," he pointed down an aisle and Morgan followed his gesture between two tall shelves of shoes, "Ok, wha'd y'like?"

She shrugged at the overwhelming number of options, "I don't know, y'r'the one that said I need 'em."

He chuckled, "Somethin' like this," he pulled a pair of dark purple sneakers with three white stripes on the sides and handed them to her, "try those on."

Morgan sat on the bench in the middle of the aisle and slipped her old army boots off, but looked up at Sam with narrow eyes when she heard him scoff loudly.

"Kid, those boots don't fit you," he exclaimed almost angrily.

"What? Yeah they do, I got tons'a room," she argued.

He shook his head and crouched next to her, picking up a worn boot, "You're not s'posed t'have a ton of room, shoes are s'posed to fit. Do your feet slide in these?"

"No, I just grip my toes," she curled her fingers in demonstration and watched her brother hang his head.

"Here," he slid a metal contraption in front of her, "put'cher foot in this."

"Why?" she questioned, but complied, and slipped a socked foot onto the cold surface.

"Cause y'r'basin' your shoe size on the size nine 'n a half boots you've been wearin', and," he examined the numbers just passed her toes, "yep, you're a seven."

"Oh," Morgan wasn't sure how seven to nine could make a huge difference, but when Sam handed her the purple shoes again in a size seven and she slipped them on, she couldn't help but smile in surprise at him.

"Better?" he asked and she nodded happily at him, "Good, those work?" she offered another happy nod in response, "Ok, let's find you some new boots."

Morgan shoved the new shoes back into the box, slipped her too big boots on and followed Sam down the aisle. She immediately spotted a pair of black, high shafted, lace up combat boots and at Sam's agreeable nod grabbed the box labeled seven and plopped down on the floor without an available bench nearby to try them on. The stiff leather boots stopped halfway up her calves over her slim cut jeans, hugging her feet comfortably and still leaving her toes enough room to wiggle.

"Those it?" Sam asked as she hopped to her feet in the new boots.

"I love them," she nodded eagerly up at him.

"Do y'wanna look at any others?" he shifted his gaze around the large shoe store, but Morgan shrugged at him and Sam chuckled, "You've gotta be the easiest girl to go shopping with ever."

At Sam's insistence, Morgan put her old boots back in the new boot's box and kept the new, fitted boots on her feet. After he paid and they walked back to the Mustang outside the pancake house, Morgan was surprised how much more confident her feet felt on the pedals when she dropped behind the steering wheel. Turning the ignition over, the engine kicked on with an eager rumble and while dropping the shifter into reverse, Morgan saw Bryan in the window as he left a table. He looked up at the sound of the idling V6 and smiled in happy surprise when they met eyes, she returned his small wave, feeling her face flush again and focused on backing the Mustang out of the spot.

"When we get home I'm gonna get you set up with some driver's ed study guides online," Sam decided, "We'll go get'cher license this week."

"Awesome," Morgan smiled at him, quickly returning her attention to the road ahead, loving the feeling of power beneath her toes that was completely at her disposal.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you like this and haven't read the first installment you should =) 
> 
> Thank you for reading and Kudos make me smile!


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Why must you ask for a summary every time? I understand I don't have to complete this, but I feel compelled by the blankness of the box and it's one seemingly simple request: Chapter Summary. 
> 
> Fine. Dean has a completely expected reaction to hearing about the re-entrance of Bryan and Sam attempts an awkward conversation with his sister. Claire and Morgan gush over the handsome young man, but the older girl tells her young friend about a high school tradition Morgan's not sure she's prepared for...  
> Oh! Dean and Claire find a case, this is still Supernatural after all.

By the time they cruised up the road to the tunnel entrance, Morgan was confidently pushing the Mustang just three miles over the speed limit, Sam didn't seem to notice. She slowed in front of the cave, but Sam shook his head, pointed where the headlights were and told her to go slow. Morgan followed the same turns she'd become familiar with in the backseat of the Impala and finally the large wooden doors emerged in the yellow light ahead.

"Great job," Sam praised, extending his fist across the center console after she parked the sports car next to the intimating sedan in the bright garage, Morgan turned and threw her arms around Sam's neck instead of returning the knuckle bump.

"Thank you," she mumbled into his long hair before letting go, "I love you."

"I love you too, Sweetie," Sam's surprise subsided into a beaming smile.

Dean and Claire were both in the library when they entered the open room with her new backpack and boxes of shoes. Sam heaved the huge case of bottled beer onto the map table as Dean descended the stairs, eyeing Morgan's new boots with a smile.

"Those 'r awesome!" he exclaimed, "What else d'ja get?"

"Dude," Sam sighed, "this girl's been wearin' boots two 'n a half sizes too big."

"Why didn't y'say somethin'," Dean scoffed at Morgan.

"I didn't know," she shrugged, "they didn't hurt, these are way more comfortable, though."

"I bet," Dean smirked, "all ready f'r'school tomorrow?"

"Yeah, right," she laughed sarcastically.

"I don't know," Sam smiled, "seems y'r'already got'a friend."

"Who?" Dean demanded at the same time Morgan shot Sam a wide-eyed glare.

"I got to meet that kid you made crap his pants," Sam chuckled, giving Morgan an encouraging smile despite the scowl she continued to give him, "Bryan, right?"

"Why? Where?" Dean insisted without a glimmer of amusement in his expression.

"Relax, man," Sam rolled his eyes, "he works at the pancake joint, happened t'be our waiter 'n-"

"You got waffles without me?" the oldest narrowed his eyes further at his brother.

"In all fairness," Sam shrugged, "neither of us got waffles. He seemed like a nice kid, definitely remembers you."

"Better never forget," Dean nodded curtly and switched his attention to his sister, "That joker's in high school?"

"He's a senior," she nodded timidly, but glowered at Sam again when Dean looked away.

"Great," Dean rolled his eyes and crossed his arms, "Stay away from him."

"Dean!" Morgan cried in frustration and stomped on of her new boots.

"Dude," Sam's tone wasn't light anymore, "you're being ridiculous. He's just a kid, he's got'a job, he's in school, what's the big deal?"

"You know exactly what the big deal is, Sammy," Dean snapped.

"Dean," Sam implored more angrily, "part of her goin' t'school is gettin' t'be a normal teenager. She's smart and isn't gonna put herself in bad situations, if we talk to her about-"

"Nope," Dean shook his head adamantly, "Sam, no."

"Dude," Sam laughed in exasperation, "you can't be serious."

"You didn't see that kid fallin' over her with his tongue hangin' out!" Dean yelled.

"Actually I did!" Sam challenged, "And I walked away to pay the bill so they could talk for a few minutes without that kid sweatin' knowin' one of her brothers is watchin' him."

"You weren't watching them?!" Dean was irate, Morgan wanted to run to her bedroom, but knew better from past experiences.

"Of course I was watching them!" Sam exploded, making Morgan jump at his rarely elevated volume and fuming tone, "Dean! I'm not an idiot and neither is she, you gotta trust her here."

"I do trust her," Dean insisted, lowering his tone, Morgan wasn't appreciating standing between the two talking about her as if she wasn't there, "but she doesn't know what he's after."

"And keeping her locked away from boys forever will definitely solve that," Claire suddenly interjected from the library table above them.

"That report done?" Dean snapped over his shoulder and they all heard the blonde's frustrated sigh as she hunched over the table again.

"She's not wrong," Sam muttered at his brother, "I'd rather she knows what to expect than send her into the trenches blind."

Dean's expression betrayed his relent to Sam's reasoning and he eventually nodded grudgingly at his younger brother, "So, you takin' this on?"

"I'd prefer she get the facts," Sam smirked, putting an arm around Morgan's shoulders, "not nightmares."

"Teenage boys are nightmares, Sammy," Dean scoffed, grabbing the case of beer and exited towards the kitchen.

Sam grabbed Morgan's backpack off the map table and gave her shoulders a little push to follow their older brother, but she shrugged away from him, rounding on him in the brief moment away from Dean.

"I can't believe you told him that," she implored quietly.

"What?" Sam shook his head, taken back in confusion, "About that kid?"

"You know his name," Morgan narrowed her eyes at him, "and you know Dean's a total control freak."

"True story," Claire mumbled above them, causing a small shared smile between Morgan and Sam.

"Don't worry," Sam pulled his sister next to him, walking down the hall towards the kitchen and bedrooms, "Dean'll get over it, he's excited for you to go to school, he really is," Sam gestured Morgan into her bedroom and tossed her new backpack on her bed as he leaned against the dresser, "but the thing is, he remembers what he was like in high school and that worries him."

"Why?" Morgan sat cross legged on her bed, setting the shoeboxes down and unzipped the bag to look at her new school supplies.

The color rose in Sam's cheeks as he looked down, shaking his head, before sighing and smiling at his sister, "Because high school is when most kids start, doing more, uh, grown up stuff, like, uh, y'know in that Mean Girls movie you guys watched, how the boys and girls were like, y'know-"

"Kissing and stuff?" Morgan offered some assistance to her stammering brother whose cheeks were reddening with every stumbled over word.

"Yeah," Sam smirked, "and stuff. That Bryan guy, he does seem like a nice kid, but it's pretty obvious he likes you and he might try n' like-"

"Kiss me?" Morgan asked, not bothering to stifle the smirk she couldn't help watching Sam so uncharacteristically uncomfortable.

"Yeah," he didn't elaborate but his slow head nod betrayed he was holding something back, Morgan didn't inquire because she wasn't particularly enjoying the awkward conversation and hoped it would end quickly.

"Well I won't let him," she said simply, despite a growing want deep down for Bryan to kiss her in the few moments since it had become a possibility.

"You don't want to?" Sam inclined his head.

"If I'm not s'pose to," she shrugged, trying to hide how disheartened she felt.

"Did I say that?" he smirked and Morgan gave him a confused look, "Morgan, listen," Sam scooted her bag over and sat on the end of her bed, "you're a beautiful young woman, there's pro'lly gonna be a lot'a boys tryin' to get your attention soon. It's okay to like someone back, but what's most important is knowing yourself, knowing if you don't want to do something you say no, you don't have to go along to be nice, and if you do want to do something with someone, well, just make sure Dean 'n I know," he caught her small eyeroll and pulled her chin up to look at him, "we want you to enjoy yourself, Sweetie, we're not gonna tell you y'can't do somethin' unless it's really not a good idea 'n in that case I know you'd understand, right?"

She nodded slowly in agreement to what he'd said, though she was thoroughly confused and couldn't stop thinking about Bryan kissing her or the mysterious possibility of 'and stuff'. Morgan really wished Claire would finish her report so she could ask her worldlier friend all the questions racing through her mind, while Sam was always understanding, the youngest Winchester instinctually knew better than to pepper her older brother for insight on boys. Bryan was very handsome, after seeing him in his work uniform with his short hair swooped to one side, Morgan couldn't get his charming smile out of her mind.

Sam left her alone to go through her new school supplies and a little while later a rapid tapping sounded on her bedroom door, she hurried to throw the door open, pulling her friend in quickly and closed it quietly after making sure the hallway was clear of overbearing older brothers.

"What happened?" Claire's tone was hushed and eager as she plopped on Morgan's bed and started checking out her new backpack.

"So," the younger girl sighed, hopping onto the foot of her bed and crossing her legs, "Sam 'n I went to the pancake house after Walmart-"

"Yeah, thanks," she giggled jokingly, "I ate breakfast with Captain Killjoy."

"Sorry f'r'that," Morgan shared a snicker of solidarity with Claire before continuing, "So we sit down 'n he's our frickin' waiter-"

"Bryan?" Claire clarified.

"Yeah," Morgan nodded, "and thankfully Sam was there, seriously if it'd been Dean I think I would've just crawled under the table," again the two girls giggled together in understanding of the oldest Winchester's ability to embarrass, "we didn't talk much, but he goes to the high school so he offered to show me around."

"Bet he did," Claire smirked and nodded strangely at Morgan, who offered an inclined look of confusion, the blonde scoffed and tossed a pillow at her friend, "Oh, c'mon, he's totally into you."

Morgan blushed, but couldn't help a silly grin that crept onto her face, "Sam kinda said that, ugh Claire he's so cute! The first time I met him I thought he was kinda cute, but today he was dressed nice 'n his hair was done, I seriously don't know why I keep thinking about him!"

"Duh!" Claire laughed happily at her friend, "You like him y'dummy, 'n he's definitely got a thing for you if he's got the guts to talk t'you around the towers of terror."

"Well, he's never seen them together," Morgan shrugged before bursting into a fit of giggles with Claire again.

"Oh that'll be a fun homecoming," Claire scoffed when their laughter had subsided.

"Homecoming?" the younger girl knew her eyebrows were nearly touching as she looked at Claire's smirk.

"It's the first dance of the year," the blonde informed her, "everybody gets dressed up 'n it's usually just in the gym or something, but I bet he asks you."

"A dance?" Morgan's stomach twisted, she had never danced in her life.

"Yeah," Claire smiled, oblivious to her friend's well-hidden concern, "it's kinda lame, but fun too. Ooh if he asks you, you have to let me help you find your dress!"

"Dress?" Morgan nearly whispered the horrid word, she hated dresses, remembering until she was about three years old having worn the same dingy sack until it had finally become a shirt and her Mother had had to magically disintegrate it off the little girl because it was too tight to pull over her head.

"It'll be fun," Claire extended a hand across the mattress and squeezed Morgan's, having noticed the glaze in the younger girl's eyes that always meant she was reminiscing a sad memory, "I promise."

"Yeah, well," Morgan shook her head of the bad memory and smiled weakly at her friend, "you're assuming they'd even let me go to something like that."

"Sam will," she said confidently.

"He might fight for me," she agreed, "but if Dean says no, that's it."

"But Sam's really good at getting him to agree," Claire insisted.

"Maybe," Morgan chuckled, "but I haven't even started school yet, Bryan's pro'lly already takin' someone anyway."

"We'll see," Claire smiled slyly, slid off the bed and started opening Morgan's dresser drawers, "Okay, let's figure out what you're wearing tomorrow, and by the way," she whipped her head at Morgan with a pretend look of distain, "I'm super jealous of those boots."

Morgan tried on outfits at Claire's request for nearly an hour, feeling better about school and Bryan, though pushing the idea of a homecoming dance as far from her mind as she could. They'd finally settled on what she would wear to her first day when a hard rap sounded on the door, followed immediately by Dean sticking his head in the room.

"Hey, come eat," he told them and closed the door again.

"Does he ever wait for you to answer before he just barges in?" Claire scoffed meanly, glaring at the closed door.

"Sometimes," Morgan shrugged, she'd never given Dean's intrusions much thought.

"There's like no such thing as privacy here," the blonde rolled her eyes, but Morgan just shrugged at her again and opened the door.

In the kitchen, Dean was finishing assembling a large sandwich, he pointed at two plates in front of him on the island, each with a slightly smaller version of his own monstrosity, and the girls took their meals to the table. Morgan sat next to Sam as he concentrated on his laptop as always, but he smiled when she sat down and turned the screen so she could see the Kansas Secretary of State website opened to a page of links and downloadable files for study guides and a 'rules of the road' manual. She offered the widest, tightlipped grin she could, having shoved a large bite of sandwich in her mouth, and Sam chuckled, opening the manual he'd already downloaded and sliding his computer closer to her.

"Read," he instructed with a pat on her shoulder and sipped his beer as he got up from the table.

Claire peered around the screen and whipped her head excitedly at Morgan, they shared a stifled grin, but the dark-haired girl gave her friend a 'we'll talk about it later' look as Dean sat with them at the table.

"Claire," Dean began in his low, attention grabbing tone and both girls looked at him, "nice job on that report, Sam's lookin' it over now, but I thought it was good."

"Thanks," Claire smiled at his praise and took a bite of her sandwich, offering him a happy humming sound in compliment of what he'd made.

"What're you workin' on?" he lowered his gaze at Morgan, flicking his eyes at the computer screen he couldn't see.

Morgan's face flushed, she wasn't sure if Sam had okayed it with Dean, but knew if she didn't turn the laptop for him to see he'd just do it himself. Her stomach untwisted as he rolled his eyes at the screen and nodded, apparently not shocked at the drivers' education material she was devouring.

"Sammy let'cha drive into town?" his question seemed baited and Morgan was sure he already knew the answer.

"And back," she tried to stifle a proud grin.

"You drove that boat?" Claire's eyes were wide as she scoffed across the table.

"My Baby is not a boat," Dean retorted quickly, "an' they took Sam's Mustang."

"It's so much easier than the Impala," Morgan giggled at her brother.

"I bet," he chuckled briefly before setting her with one of his no nonsense expressions, "But understand me Morgan," she wanted to look away, but kept her identical eyes locked on his as he spoke, "this is a really big privilege, huge, an' I trust you, you know I do, but you, me 'n Sam are gonna have a long talk about car rules before you start driving that thing to school on a regular basis," Morgan's stomach sank at the idea of another painfully long lecture from Dean, but she wasn't completely disheartened as his statement indicated she would be driving the Mustang alone, "I'm not thrilled at the idea, but honestly, you've earned it, so, uh, don't screw it up, y'got me?"

"Yes, sir," Morgan nodded at him with a wide grin she couldn't hide.

"Seriously?" Claire scoffed in excited disbelief, "Cute boots, cute boy and you're getting a car? I'm like beyond jealous of you right now."

Morgan grinned at her friend, knowing she was really happy for her too, but the younger girl had never had anything for anyone else to be jealous of, her life before had certainly never been something to envy. Stealing a quick glance at her brother, Morgan's grin widened at the stubble faced man across from her before returning her focus to Sam's laptop. She hadn't even known Sam had a car, let alone a gorgeous, sleek black, two-door, V6 Mustang, and was doing her best to hide the excitement of driving the powerful sports car alone. Morgan sometimes missed the power she'd always felt, despite having more love, affection and friendship than she could've ever imagined, sometimes the young girl still felt lonely without her magic. Mostly, she was adjusting well to being 'normal', though still despised having to get up when she wanted a drink or needed to turn off a light switch, it was just tedious. Driving the Mustang had filled a bit of that gap feeling the engine rumble under her feet.

By the time she finished her sandwich, Morgan had absorbed half of the manual, oblivious to Claire staring at her in wide-eyed amazement. Finishing her last bite, the younger girl checked the page she was on and looked across the table as Dean was finishing his double decker and Claire was still holding her sandwich near her mouth without actually eating it.

"How much did you just read?" the blonde demanded, her face still contorted in shock.

"I don't know," Morgan shrugged and glanced at the screen again, "thirteen pages."

"We've been sitting here f'r'like five minutes," Claire informed her, "I knew you read fast but shit."

"Hey," Dean shot a warning glance at Claire and then winked at his sister, "She's got like the Rainman thing goin' without all the whacko crap."

"Who?" both girls asked simultaneously.

Dean scoffed at them, but offered a conceding look at Morgan, "Well you can't watch it yet, we'll add it to the list."

"There's more on the list than what you'll let me watch," Morgan kept her tone light but her eyes were challenging.

"Rated R kiddo," he shrugged, "gotta be seventeen or older."

"Unless her legal guardian says it's okay," Claire interjected.

"He does not," Dean smirked at the blonde.

"You're ridiculous!" Claire scoffed.

"I'm gonna finish this in my room," Morgan rolled her eyes after picking the laptop up so Dean couldn't see the annoyed gesture and carefully carried it to her bedroom, she saw Sam's door was open and he was lazing on his bed watching a television show, Claire's report sitting next to him, she lightly tapped a boot on his door, "Hey, Sam?"

"Yeah, Sweetie?" he looked over at her, but continued stealing glances at the show.

"Is it okay if I keep readin' this in my room?" she lifted the laptop in both hands to show him she had a good grip on it and offered a meek smile that seemed to work when asking him for things.

"Yeah, go ahead," he smiled, focusing entirely on her for a few moments, "I'll quiz y'later if y'want."

"Awesome," she smiled widely at him and took a step back towards her room, "Thanks, Sam."

"No problem, kid," Sam returned his attention to the show and Morgan carefully walked into her bedroom and sat on the bed with his computer.

Without the distraction of others, she was able to move quicker through the manual, but was surprised when it was only twenty-three pages long. Scrolling back to the top, Morgan began rereading the laws, the rules, driving courtesies and an entire page and half dedicated to the terrors of drinking and driving. After a second read through, she clicked back to the website and started on some of the study guides, finding them ridiculously simple since the questions used the exact same wording as the manual she'd just memorized. Driving didn't seem to have a lot of rules that weren't common sense, but to be on the safe side, Morgan went through both study guides twice and then discovered a practice test pdf linked to another page. Before clicking the link, she slid off her bed and carefully carried her laptop back into the hallway, but Sam wasn't in his bedroom.

The kitchen was empty as she passed and continued towards the library. Sam was back in the arm chair reading the red book as Claire and Dean were hunched over a tablet at a table as she entered.

"Hey, Sam," Morgan slowly ascended the stairs gripping his computer tightly, "I found this practice test."

"Yeah, let's see," Sam set his book on the side table and stood up to lean over the table she set the laptop on and gave her a quick narrow eyed glance, "You didn't download this did you?"

"No, it's on a different site so I wasn't sure," she shook her head, Sam had had a really long talk with her about being careful when using his computer and Morgan wasn't interested in going through that again.

"Good," Sam smiled, clicking the screen and suddenly it changed to coding lines and Sam shook his head, "Yeah, this site's not super secure. We can use the study guides though, they're pretty much the test anyway."

"Okay," she nodded, "I think I did alright on 'em."

Sam grinned and shook his head before turning to his sister, "Already memorized the manual didn'cha?"

"Not exactly a lot to retain," she scoffed.

"You're incredible," he nudged her with his elbow.

"Claire, go grab that Latin translation book," Dean pointed at a bookcase as Claire picked up her phone with a smirk and opened a translation app, "I hate reading this obscure crap."

"Can I see?" Morgan's attention was caught and she scooted around to the other table.

"Yeah, here," Dean handed her the tablet and she was looking at a digital image of an old page, her eyes stared scanning the words instantly, "I forgot you're fluent in extinct languages."

"This is a spell," Morgan grinned a little at familiar words, but furrowed her brow as she continued, "wow, creepy much?"

"What is it?" Dean urged.

"It's a love spell," Morgan kept her eyes on the picture of the spell book page and read through an ingredient list after understanding the incantation's purpose, "well that's all pretty easy to get a hold of, purified water, the seedling of a rose, oil of lavender, a piece of the, well the victim really, could be as simple as hair, and blood of the user. This is really scary though, listen, may I be all that you see, may I be all that you need, I will nourish your body and our souls will be one, our love will be all we will ever need and we will be one forever."

"Obsessive much?" Claire blinked at Morgan and they shared a grimace.

"That explains a lot though," Dean nodded, taking the tablet back from Morgan and changing the screen to a newspaper article about a recent double suicide of two high schoolers, "A week ago Romeo here kills himself because his parents locked him in his room when he wouldn't stop leaving to get to some girl's house, she ended up killing herself the day after him, local police found that in her room, but there's a couple other boys in the hospital with similar symptoms to the first victim."

"Like what?" Morgan was intrigued at the hints of witchcraft.

"Refusing to eat, insanely obsessed with a couple girls," Dean shook his head in disbelief, "They're currently being restrained to beds on heavy sedatives and IV nutrition."

"Jeez," Morgan felt a pang of sadness for the young men under the control of a powerful love spell, "Witches?"

"No," Dean scoffed, "I don't think so, this sounds like a few high school girls got their hands on the wrong book. Anything about undoin' it?"

"Not on that page," Morgan shook her head as Dean tried to hand back the tablet, "reversal spells are usually in a different section of the book though."

"Crap," Dean growled, "all they found was this page."

"Crap," Morgan agreed.

"We should talk to the other girls," Claire announced, "they know where the rest of the book is."

Dean nodded and looked at Sam, "Can you hold down the fort if Claire and I take off for a day? It's just a few hours South, shouldn't take long."

"Yeah," Sam held back an eyeroll, "we'll be fine, an' I'm takin' her t'get her license after school tomorrow."

Dean's face hardened at Sam, "We need to talk about this."

"Thought we already did," Sam smirked.

"Like hell we did," Dean growled, "The three of us need to sit down and have a long conversation about the rules before she starts drivin' on her own."

"Dean, I got this," Sam insisted calmly.

Dean glared at his younger siblings with suspicion, which Morgan felt was very unfair since she hadn't said anything, but the oldest nodded curtly and flipped a chair out from under the table, "Claire, go get packed, we're leavin' soon, Morgan, sit," he pointed firmly to the chair and his sister tried to hide an exasperated sigh as she plopped onto it.

Sam rolled his eyes and sat in the arm chair, offering Morgan an encouraging smile.

"I can't stress enough the importance of being safe behind the wheel of a vehicle," Dean began and Morgan stared at him blankly to avoid scowling, "Sam, you want it, fine, this is your show so you better make sure she's ready, but listen to me Morgan, one speeding ticket and I'm gonna come down on your ass like a hammer. Am I clear?"

"Yes, sir," she mumbled, shifting uncomfortably in her seat at the threat.

"Me too," Sam raised his eyebrows at her and Morgan crossed her arms, feeling very attacked.

"I get it," she sighed, but jumped a little when Dean snapped his fingers loudly.

"Hey," he warned, "attitude's not gonna get y'anywhere in that car."

"I'm sorry," she mumbled, "I promise I'll be careful, seriously."

"I know you will," Sam smiled.

"Or you're not just gonna lose the car," Dean's tone and scowl told Morgan exactly what she was in for if she screwed up with the Mustang.

"Ok," Sam stood to his full height and smiled at his sister, "let's see what y'learned."

Dean left the library as Sam took his laptop and settled across the table from Morgan. While impressed, he wasn't remotely surprised that she answered his questions quickly and word for word out of the driving manual. Dean and Claire walked through the open room on their way to the garage, both with a large duffel bag full of clothes, weapons, first aid supplies and everything else they might need.

"We're gettin' outta here," Dean called and despite a twinge of anger she still felt towards him, Morgan descended the stairs and hugged him tightly.

"Be safe," she muttered into his flannel before he released her from his arms.

"We will," he smiled down at her, "you too, 'n I'm sorry if I'm being a crazy man about the driving thing."

"S'ok," she smirked, "kinda used to y'r'crazy."

Dean threw his head back laughing and Claire and Morgan shared a small smile.

"A'right we'll see you guys in a day or two," Dean held his sister gently by the back of her neck and planted a kiss on her head, "Have a great first day at school tomorrow, kid."

"Thanks, see you," Morgan smiled and bound back up the stairs to continue quizzing with Sam.

Later that night, she and Sam settled into a movie in his bedroom before going to sleep. She'd laid the clothes she and Claire had chosen out on her dresser, packed and repacked her new bag and badgered Sam with questions about classes, lunch, passing periods and this gym class he'd mentioned. He'd patiently answered every one of them until finally she'd just looked nervous and quiet and her brother decided they needed a distraction.

"A'right, get t'bed," Sam ordered, flipping the television off as the credits rolled.

"It's not even ten," Morgan scoffed at him, for as regimented and strict as her brothers were, she always went to bed whenever she was tired or when everyone turned in, the schedule in the Winchester household wasn't exactly planned around a daily routine.

"You gotta be up early," Sam informed her, "School starts at quarter t'eight but we gotta be there at seven to get'cha all set up."

"Can I drive?" she smiled slyly at him.

"Not if y'keep arguin' with me about goin' to bed," Sam raised an eyebrow at her and Morgan hopped of his bed quickly, producing a short chuckle from her brother, "G'night, sweet dreams."

"G'night," she returned the hug he offered and left for her room.

She closed her door and sighed at the outfit sitting on her dresser, her new boots gleaming on the floor next to her brown backpack. Her stomach was turning with nerves and excitement as she crawled under her blankets and tried to sleep. Somewhere, much later in the night, Morgan drifted off after hours of letting her mind run wild with worry and anticipation.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Damn you blank box!
> 
> Morgan's first day at school.

At five thirty Ironman started playing from the speaker on her phone and Morgan sleepily slid her finger on the screen to silence the alarm before dragging herself from the warm bed. She took her phone with her to the shower, as she always did since her brothers had given it to her the month before and Sam had helped her load a bunch of Dean's music on it, the acoustics in the large tile room were perfect to drown out her own attempt at singing along.

Sam knocked on her partially open bedroom door as she finished blow drying her hair in front of the mirror, he was dressed in nice slacks and a button down with a sport jacket hanging over one arm.

"Lookin' good, kid," he smiled as she pulled her new boots over her jeans.

"Not too shabby yourself," she smirked.

"Figured it wouldn't hurt," he shrugged, "Come eat some breakfast, I made coffee."

Morgan grabbed her backpack and whipped her head around to make sure she hadn't forgotten anything before following Sam down the hall to the kitchen. He set a couple bowls on the counter and grabbed a box of cereal as Morgan got the milk from the refrigerator. The ate in sleepy silence until both had finished a cup of coffee and were clearly more awake.

"Y'ready?" Sam smiled and Morgan nodded unconvincingly, "It'll be fine, they're gonna love you."

The Mustang was still sitting in the middle of the garage next to the empty space where the Impala was usually parked, she smiled at the pretty car, gleaming under the bright lights. Sam tossed her the keys and told her to pull through slowly after he opened the heavy wooden doors, Morgan bounced on the driver's seat a little before turning the ignition over with a satisfying rumble. Sam hopped in the passenger seat after shutting them in the darkness of the tunnel and she slowly turned through the maze until the soft light of dawn appeared.

Sam quizzed her a little more on driving laws as the made their way towards Lebanon, Morgan was happy of the distraction, noticing her nerves getting worse as they got closer. When Sam directed her into the large parking lot surrounding a huge building, she felt nauseous. There were only a few cars and Sam told her to park in the front row, he opened his door and took a step out of the car before realizing she hadn't taken her hands off the steering wheel.

"Y'okay?" he gently shook her shoulder with an encouraging grin.

"I'm scared," she whispered, barely looking him in the eyes.

"I know," he pulled her chin up at him, "that's okay, it'll go away."

"Y'sure?" she grimaced.

"Positive," he kissed her forehead before dipping his head to get out of the sports car, "C'mon, kid."

Morgan followed Sam up the stairs to the main entrance, fidgeting with the straps of her backpack and glancing around the outside of the building. He pushed a button on a silver speaker box and a moment later a woman's voice echoed from it.

"Good morning, how can I help you?"

"Good morning, yes," Sam answered, "I'm Sam Winchester, I spoke with someone a week or so ago about getting my sister enrolled."

"Just a moment," the woman's voice crackled through the speaker again and in the following moment a buzzer sounded and Sam wrenched open the door, gesturing Morgan to walk ahead.

Through the second set of doors, Morgan looked around the large, clean hallway. The voice from the speaker box spoke to them again from the woman peeking out a door under a sign labeled 'main office'.

"Mr. Winchester, please come in," she smiled and ushered them into the room, all the walls were windows into the hallway and Morgan hoped students didn't start showing up while she was still in there, the room felt very on display, "Mrs. Morris will be with you in just a few minutes, but you can get started on the paperwork," she handed Sam a thin folder with the school logo on it and pointed to a table in the corner.

Morgan followed Sam to the table, continuing to steal glances around the office and through the windows into the main hall. Her gut twisted when her eyes caught a banner hanging on a wall across from the main office about homecoming tickets being on sale, the dance was the following weekend.

"Sam?" a sweet voice caught both Winchesters' attention to the petite woman who'd just opened the door labeled 'principal'.

"Mrs. Morris, it's nice to finally meet you," Sam stood and shook the woman's hand, she looked a little surprised by his full height while reclining her head significantly to avoid staring directly into his chest, Morgan stifled a giggle at how funny the tiny woman looked next to her gigantic brother.

"Yes, I'm so glad you've decided to have Morgan join our school," the middle-aged woman smiled at her before craning her attention back at Sam.

"She wanted to give it a shot," he winked at his sister.

"Well we're happy to have you," she smiled again and Morgan forced a nervous grin, "Come in here, let's get you all set up."

Sam clapped a hand on Morgan's shoulder as she walked ahead of him into the smaller office and they each took a seat in front of Mrs. Morris's desk. She took the partially completed forms from Sam, rolling her eyes and mumbling that her staff would bury people in paperwork in they could. At her request, he slid the newly made documents out of an envelope and handed them to her, Morgan's heart beat faster, sure the woman would somehow know her information was fake, Sam looked as calm and collected as always. Mrs. Morris smiled and nodded at the forms and continued entering information into her computer.

"So, Morgan," she looked kindly across her desk at the nervous girl, "I understand this is your first time in a conventional school."

"Yes, ma'am," Morgan nodded.

"I'm very sorry to hear about your Mother's untimely passing," the principal offered a sympathetic smirk and Morgan nodded in acceptance, "Do you like living with your brothers?"

With a suddenly wide smile, Morgan looked at Sam, "Love it."

"Do you remember what you were last studying with your Mother?" Mrs. Morris asked and Morgan's blood ran cold, this wasn't a question she'd expected and obviously couldn't offer an honest answer.

"I think they skipped around a bit," Sam offered quickly, "Is there a way to evaluate what grade she should be placed in?"

"Certainly," the principal nodded, taking a tablet from her desk and swiping the screen a few times before handing it to Morgan, "You can take that to the table out there so you can concentrate."

Morgan nodded and gave Sam a nervous grin that he returned with an encouraging wink as she walked to the table in the main office. Glancing at the time on the top of the tablet, school would be starting in twenty minutes. She started the first section on reading comprehension and quickly moved onto mathematics, a few of the last problems weren't anything she was familiar with having complex symbols she didn't recognize, but after a few moments of reasoning thought she'd figured them out. Science was actually enjoyable, like math, magic had a lot of components related to the laws of earth and logic and Morgan liked breezing through the questions. Just as a few students started filtering through the front doors, the assessment completed and Morgan knocked softly on the principal's door.

"Did you have a question dear?" the kindly woman asked when she'd entered.

"I'm done," Morgan muttered, handing her the tablet and catching the slack jawed look Mrs. Morris was giving her.

"Done?" she repeated in a near whisper, "It's been ten minutes, this is a thirty-minute evaluation."

Morgan looked at her new boots and rubbed her fingers together nervously at her sides, but Sam's gentle grip on her arm got her to look at him. His expression told her she wasn't in trouble and Morgan mustered the confidence to look back at the shocked principal.

"I think I mentioned she's smart when we talked," Sam chuckled as Mrs. Morris shook her head in disbelief at the tablet.

"Smart is," the woman expelled a good-natured scoff, "a bit of an understatement. Morgan, your reading and comprehension is off the charts, you've set a record," Sam inconspicuously put a fist down behind the principal's desk and, without looking away from Mrs. Morris, Morgan gently tapped it with her own, "Your math and science skills are well above average, problem solving, again just off the charts. I, I've never seen results like these," she shook her head again at the tablet before setting a serious look at Sam, "I'm not sure our school can accommodate her abilities."

Morgan felt her throat tighten, but forced herself to swallow, absolutely determined not to cry in the principal's office, hearing students clamor through the main hall to class.

"Mrs. Morris," the smile Sam offered her was reminiscent of Dean's it was so charming and Morgan saw a little flush of color in the woman's cheeks, "I understand your concern, but Morgan wants the experience of being in a real school with kids her age, she deserves it."

The kindly woman smiled brightly and nodded, "I agree, but I'm afraid even our advanced placement classes might be a bit boring for you."

"I'll be fine," Morgan assured her with a small, tightlipped smile.

"Well, do you want to be a junior or a senior then?" she laughed.

"Junior," Sam answered and didn't look at his sister when she shot him a quick glance.

"Junior it is," Mrs. Morris nodded and turned to her computer again.

A few minutes later they were leaving the office and Morgan was studying her new class schedule.

"Ms. Rydell could you page Kelly Peterson please, I'd like her to show Morgan to her first class," Mrs. Morris asked the woman behind the desk who'd buzzed them in and a few moments later her voice was echoing through the school for the assigned young woman to come to the main office, "Sam, it was very nice to meet you."

"A pleasure, Mrs. Morris," Sam smiled at her again and the principal nearly giggled as they shook hands.

"Morgan, if you need anything, my door is always open," her smile was kind but Morgan was sure she wouldn't be willingly going into that office again.

"A'right, I'm gonna get outta here," Sam sighed when Mrs. Morris had closed her office door again, "have a great day, I'll pick y'up out front after school."

Morgan nodded at him, her mouth suddenly too dry to speak.

"Good morning, Ms. Rydell," a high, sweet voice crooned and both Winchesters turned to a thin, pretty girl with blonde, curly hair in a high ponytail, a pink collared shirt and a short gray skirt. Morgan and Sam shared a blank look and shook their heads at each other.

"Good morning, Kelly," the desk lady smiled and pointed to Morgan and Sam, "This is Morgan Winchester, she's a new student and Mrs. Morris would like you to show her to class."

"Hi," Kelly nearly squeaked, smiling widely at Morgan, but shifting her eyes up at Sam, "I'm Kelly."

"Morgan," she nodded, offering the girl a far less enthusiastic grin.

"What's your first class?" she asked, still stealing glances at Sam every few seconds.

"AP English," she checked her schedule again even though she'd memorized it, "with Mr. Carson."

"That's my class!" she exclaimed and Morgan held back an eyeroll.

"I'll let you girls get goin'," Sam clapped a hand on Morgan's shoulder with an encouraging squeeze, "have a good day, sweetie."

"Bye Sam," Morgan mumbled as he walked towards the front doors and she followed Kelly further into the school.

"Who was that?" the smiling girl whipped her head at Morgan as soon as the front doors shut.

"My brother," she answered quietly, turning her attention all around the hallway, plastered with posters for upcoming events, try-outs for teams and clubs, student art projects and a variety of wrapping paper choices decorating the occasional locker.

"He's like, really hot," Kelly giggled.

"Ok," Morgan shrugged uncomfortably.

"Do you live with him?" she asked.

"And our older brother Dean," she told her, but wasn't sure why after she said it, remembering she didn't have to explain herself to anyone.

"Oh," Kelly's smile faltered, assumingly having come to the conclusion of why she lived with her brothers and not her parents like this girl almost surely did, regaining her smile, Kelly continued, "That's cool, they must let you do whatever you want."

"Yeah," Morgan stifled a laugh, "whatever I want."

"Here we are," Kelly almost skipped to door 115, pulled the handle and walking into the classroom.

Morgan followed and her stomach flipped as at least two dozen pairs of eyes peered at her from lines of desks.

"Kelly you're back," the older man sitting on a large desk at the front of the room in front of a white board smiled, "and you've brought a friend."

"This is Morgan Winchester," Kelly informed the entire room and Morgan felt herself blushing.

"Welcome, Morgan," the gray-haired man opened his arms and Morgan couldn't help but remember Crowley welcoming her to Hell, "Come up here. Do you have your schedule?"

Mortified, she trudged to the front of the classroom and handed the paper to Mr. Carson, keeping her back to the class as long as she could. Unfortunately, he hopped off his desk with surprising energy and turned her with a gentle, wrinkled hand to face the rest of the students.

"Is there anything you'd like to tell us about yourself?" he asked as if it was an exciting proposition.

"Not really," she shrugged.

"Well why don't you take a seat behind Mr. Andersen there," he pointed to an empty desk by the window a few seats behind the front row.

"Hi," the chubby boy turned in front of her, "nice boots."

"Thanks," Morgan muttered, offering him a small smile.

"I'm Andy," he whispered and Morgan nodded at him, biting back a disbelieving scoff that his parents named him Andrew Andersen and making a mental note to laugh about it with Dean later.

"Andy, there's plenty of time for flirting when I'm not talking about George Orwell," Mr. Carson called good-naturedly, the rest of the class laughed as the plump young man turned in his seat and Morgan knew she was a deep shade of red, sliding down a little in her desk chair wishing she could hide under it.

"What's your next class?" Kelly popped up next to her as Morgan was gathering her backpack after the bell rang.

"Uh, chemistry with Miss Ellet," she followed other students into the hallway as Kelly bobbed along next to her.

"That's a senior class," the girl's heavily made up eyes widened at her, "you're like really smart, huh?"

"I guess," Morgan shrugged, "Where's room three-oh-two?"

"This way," she jerked her head and headed down the hall, "I'm in three-oh-five next."

Morgan couldn't help but shift her eyes around in the mass of teenagers, part of her hoping she'd see Bryan and part of her terrified of the prospect. She followed Kelly up a few flights of stairs and thanked her when they arrived in the three hundred wing, slipping into her class with a few other students.

Miss Ellet was young and dressed in jeans and a fitted, flannel shirt, she waved Morgan to her desk as soon as the girl entered the room.

"You must be Morgan Winchester," she grinned and held out her hand for Morgan's schedule, nodding as she read it over, "Wow, all AP classes. You like a genius or something?"

"I, uh, m'not," Morgan stammered at the woman's forwardness, but sighed with a small smile when Miss Ellet laughed good-naturedly.

"Well, I like to have fun in my classes, so I hope you're up for that," she smiled.

"Yes, ma'am," Morgan nodded at her.

"Oh God, don't call me that," the young teacher exclaimed with another short laugh, "most students call me Jenny, but Miss Ellet is fine if you're not comfortable with that."

"Yes, ma'-Miss Ellet," Morgan felt herself blush again and wondered if she could make it through the rest of the day without her face turning pink.

When Miss Ellet introduced her to the class, however, Morgan's stomach dropped seeing Bryan sitting in the back at one of the two person tables, he was next to a blonde boy and they were whispering to each other while keeping their smiling eyes on her.

"This actually works out great," Miss Ellet continued after the brief introduction, she'd thankfully not asked if Morgan would like to tell the class anything about herself, "Patrick, Jackie and Dave have been pulling a three man team the last few weeks but now we have an even number. Which of you wants to be Morgan's lab partner?"

Patrick and Dave both stood up instantly, the brunette girl at their table shook her head at them with a mean smirk.

"Patrick," Miss Ellet chuckled, "you and Morgan can work at station nine."

She saw the tall, dark haired young man shoot a snide smile at Dave who slumped back into his chair and rolled his eyes at Jackie as she scoffed at him. Patrick smiled at Morgan and dumped his backpack on the table next to Bryan and the blonde boy's. While Morgan offered her new lab partner a small smile in return, she couldn't help it widening when she caught Bryan's eye before sitting on the other side of Patrick.

"Patrick," the broad young man extended his hand.

"Morgan," she shook it with a firm grip.

"Where y'from?" he asked in a hushed tone.

"Chicago," she said simply.

"Cool," he nodded, "this place must be boring as hell to you."

"Slightly more boring than hell, yeah," she couldn't help a small giggle at her private joke.

Miss Ellet got the classes attention as she wheeled a cart of Bunsen burners and various beakers of colored liquids to the front of the room. Patrick left the table to get their materials when instructed and Bryan winked at her without the large young man blocking their view of each other, too soon, her partner returned and again the handsome young man was obscured. Though when Patrick smiled at her, handing her a sheet of instructions, she realized that the large young man was also pretty cute. He was nearly as tall as Sam and definitely as broad shouldered as Dean, his smile was charming and his brown eyes were kind, Morgan felt that strange flutter in her stomach as she felt him continue to steal glances at her while she read through the instructions.

Without explaining her actions, Morgan lit the burner and started pouring one of the liquids into the bowl above the flame. Silently she watched and avidly took notes on the process before slowly adding another liquid and returning to notebook to record the results.

"Hey," Patrick nudged her gently, breaking her concentration, "y'know we're s'pose to do this together."

"Oh," Morgan blushed, "sorry."

"S'cool," he smiled, "what'd you do so far?"

Morgan leaned towards him a little with the instruction sheet and showed him the steps she'd completed and recorded the data from, oblivious to his eyes widening as she spoke.

"You're like done," he scoffed.

"We still gotta add the third liquid," she insisted and then noticed that everyone else in the room was still reading the instructions or had just lit their burners.

"Well I definitely lucked out on lab partners," Patrick chuckled, leaning into her and bumping her with his shoulder, Morgan's stomach fluttered again when they touched, noticing how good he smelled, "just tell me what y'r'doin', I'm not really great at this anyway."

"Okay," she giggled and continued the lab but explained what she was doing as Patrick took notes, much slower than she wrote, but Morgan thought he looked kind of cute listening to her eagerly and jotting messily in his notebook.

"Do you have lunch now?" Patrick asked as the bell rang and they both slung their bags onto their shoulders.

"Yeah," she nodded, "um, which way to the cafeteria?"

"I got lunch too," he smiled down at her, "y'wanna sit with me 'n meet some'a my teammates?"

Morgan caught Bryan's eyes as he smiled almost sadly at her leaving the room with other students, but quickly remembered she was talking to Patrick and looked up at him again, "Yeah, sure, thanks."

She walked with the tall young man through the crowded hallways, noticing how many high fives and knuckle bumps he participated in as they continued towards the cafeteria. By the time they reached the large open room full of circle tables, each seemingly surrounded by a group of students laughing and talking, Morgan was sure she was walking with one of the most popular boys in school, a theory confirmed as they approached one of the more crowded tables and people moved out of his way to make room. Most of the students at the table were boys similar in size to Patrick, though few of them matching his height, several of them wore football t-shirts with the school logo on them and she understood she'd somehow just ventured into the football team's lunch domain.

"Hey guys," Patrick got his friends' attention quickly and tossed an arm around Morgan's shoulders, causing a flurry of fluttering, flushing and nerves all at the same time, "this is Morgan, she just started today."

She tried to say hi back to all of them, but there were so many, she finally just smiled after three awkwardly mumbled 'hey's at a few of the nearer young men. Patrick told them she was from Chicago and one of the chubbier boys hunched over a sandwich scoffed.

"Y'should kill y'r'parents for movin' you to this shit hole."

"Don't need to," Morgan's natural sarcastic defenses rose to the occasion instantly, "they're already dead."

The sandwich dropped from his chubby hand as the table fell silent, "I, uh, sorry."

"Shit happens," Morgan shrugged, feeling Patrick's grip tighten a little on her shoulder.

"So, who do you live with?" another boy in a football shirt asked.

"My older brothers," she wished she hadn't responded emotionally and put herself in the interrogating situation.

"Cool," another piped up enthusiastically, "so you can like do whatever you want."

This time Morgan did allow herself a small laugh, wondering why everyone kept assuming that and she couldn't help but think of Dean's characteristic eyebrow raise right before a warning started.

Patrick led her through the lunch line, showing her where the trays were and advising as to what foods to avoid and what was usually mediocrely appealing. As they were about to pay, she saw Bryan leaning against the vending machines across the room with a group of friends, some she recognized from the first day they met. He winked at her and she couldn't help a tightlipped grin, her stomach fluttering again. Patrick told one of his teammates to move when they returned to the table, offering Morgan his seat and she gave the boy an awkward, apologetic grimace as she sat down.

"So wha'd'ya think so far?" Patrick asked her after taking a swig of his soda.

"It's different," she smiled, "but I kinda like it."

"Good," he nodded and held out his hand, "Lemme see your schedule."

Morgan didn't really like the way he demanded the sheet of paper, but she unzipped her bag and handed it to him. It took him a bit longer than she thought necessary before finally looking up with the same wide-eyed expression he'd had in chemistry.

"You're in all the smart kid classes, huh?" he joked, "Doesn't surprise me. Pretty sure y'r'gonna save me from failin' chemistry."

"And save me since I need his ass on the field keepin' my ass from gettin' hit," the lean boy on the other side of Patrick stuck his head out and smiled at Morgan.

"Sam's our quarterback," Patrick jerked his thumb towards the young man and handing her back the schedule.

"My brother's name is Sam," Morgan smiled back at him, he didn't look anything like her Sam, he was much shorter, thin but muscular and his hair was buzzed short around his whole head, something she didn't even want to imagine on her brother.

"Good name," the other Sam nodded, "what other classes y'got?"

"AP math next with Mrs. Devon," she slipped the schedule back into her bag, having looked at it enough to see a clear picture in her head.

"Me too!" he exclaimed, just as the bell rang to end the period and she heard students pouring into the halls again, "C'mon, I'll show you."

"Ok," she nodded, swinging her backpack on her shoulders and giving Patrick a small smile, "thanks, I'll see you later."

"Count on it," he raised his eyebrows with a sneaky grin and she felt herself blush as she turned to follow Sam.

Math class went by quickly, Morgan appreciated her teacher Mrs. Devon was all business and simply instructed her new student to have a seat instead of wasting precious class time parading her in the front of the room. When the bell rang, Morgan was stopped on her exit from the room by a couple of giggling girls, both brunette, one wearing a blindingly pink sweater and the other in a high school cheerleading hoody.

"You're Morgan right?" the one in the pink sweater giggled more at her friend than at Morgan.

"Yeah," she sounded almost unsure as she answered.

"We're friends of Kelly's," the other girl smiled, "we're all on the squad. Did you cheer at your old school?"

Morgan stared blankly at them, having understood almost nothing she'd just asked, "I, uh, this is my first school."

"Ooh, homeschooled," pink sweater giggled and Morgan felt an angry bubble rising inside.

"Yeah I heard you're really smart," cheerleading hoody remarked, Morgan didn't understand how she could've heard anything about her already, it was barely afternoon, "You should come check out practice after school this week, you'd make a great flyer."

"Oh my God," pink sweater gasped, "she totally would. You have to come."

"Okay," Morgan was a bit taken back by the invitation she didn't understand and the follow up demand that she could not refuse.

"Tomorrow, three o'clock in the gym," cheerleading hoody told her, "I'm Shannon by the way."

"Christy," the girl in the pink sweater waved.

"Hi," Morgan nodded at them and followed them into the hall.

History was her last class before finishing her day in gym, a class Morgan wasn't sure how she felt about from what Sam had explained. She liked training at home with her brothers, but was very sure kickboxing and wrestling techniques would not be on the lesson plan. She managed to make it to her history classroom without any assistance and slipped inside just as the passing period ended.

"Miss Winchester?" a handsome man around Dean's age waved her over to where he was leaning against his desk in the front of the room, "I'm Mr. Kirk. How's you're first day been?"

"Good," she nodded at him, hoping he didn't ask her to tell the class something about herself.

"Glad to hear it," he smiled and Morgan felt that flutter in her stomach again, he was by far the most handsome man she'd ever met, "I put a text book on your desk over there."

"Thank you," she mumbled at him, averting her gaze, afraid her cheeks would darken with every glance to his clear blue eyes.

History was easily the most interesting class she'd had, not only because it was really nice to watch Mr. Kirk talk and pace in front of the room, but American history was probably the only subject Morgan knew she was severely lacking in and enjoyed absorbing new information. She couldn't help but skip around a few pages during class, excited to read the huge text as soon as she had the opportunity. When the bell rang, she returned Mr. Kirk's encouraging smile with a small, tightlipped grin and joined the mass of students in the hallway going towards their final class of the day.

Morgan had passed the gymnasium earlier and was quite proud of herself for remembering exactly how to get there, a plump woman in a crewneck sweatshirt and gym shorts caught her attention just outside the gymnasium doors.

"Morgan Winchester?" she asked and Morgan nodded.

"I'm Mrs. Olin," she said curtly and silently gestured Morgan to follow her into the gym, leading her to a small office between the doors labeled for the boys' and girls' locker rooms. Several students were entering the gender specific rooms, a few were already returning to the gym, all in the same blue shorts and white t-shirt with the school logo on them.

"Alright, are you a small or extra small?" Mrs. Olin asked, digging through a bin of gym clothes all packed individually in plastic.

"Small," Morgan mumbled and took the shorts and shirt the gym teacher handed her.

"You have tennis shoes?" she asked in almost a sneer after glancing at Morgan heavy boots.

"Yes, ma'am," she nodded and the woman gave her a satisfied, very small smile.

"Alright go get changed," she jerked her head of short dark hair towards the girls' locker room and Morgan hurried out of the office.

It wasn't until Morgan slipped the new cotton shorts on that her stomach twisted, while a long-standing part of her, she always wore pants to avoid showcasing the scars riddling her legs. Like the ones on her arms, they were light and slightly raised. Alone in the locker room, Morgan ran her hands up and down her bare legs and prayed no one would notice, finally gathering the confidence to join her class in the gym.

Gym wasn't as terrible as she expected it to be, while she thought the game Badminton was particularly stupid it ended up being fun chasing the birdies since no one was very good. A few of the boys at the court next to the one she'd been assigned to kept reminding the class the technical name for the birdie was shuttlecock, and Mrs. Olin finally scolded them for yelling the second half of the word every time they said it.

The locker room was packed when class was over and every girl was clamoring to change before the final bell rang to release students for the day. Morgan changed quickly and quietly, shoving her new gym clothes on top of her sneakers in her now very full backpack and sat on the bench to pull her boots back on her feet.

"Those are super cute," a tall girl leaning against a sink waiting for her friend called over.

"Thanks," Morgan smiled.

"You're the new kid?" she asked.

"Guess so," Morgan nodded.

"Gina," she waved.

"Morgan."

"I heard you're like really smart," Gina told her and Morgan wanted to know how all these people were hearing things about her so soon.

"I guess," Morgan shrugged, swinging her heavy backpack onto her shoulders.

"Yeah, I heard about you," her friend stood from the bench and smiled at Morgan, both girls were several inches taller than her, "you live with your brothers right?"

Morgan nodded and followed the girls out of the locker room.

"Kelly said the one she saw this morning was really hot," she giggled at Gina, but was met with a blank stare.

"Kelly's a slut, she thinks everyone's hot," Gina scoffed and Morgan stifled a grin at the sneer she only partly understood.

Gina asked Morgan where she was from and excitedly told her briefly a few things her family had done when they'd visited Chicago over the summer. Morgan smiled and nodded as if she was familiar with the museums she'd always longed to go in, but had never had the chance. Her smile widened outside when she saw the black Mustang sitting in the row of cars picking up students as others walked to their cars in the lot, Sam was leaning against the passenger side and grinned when he saw her. Morgan waved at him and said goodbye to the girls.

"That's your brother?" Gina's eyes widened at Sam, "Damn, Kelly wasn't wrong."

Morgan scoffed good-naturedly, shaking her head, and descended the concrete steps.

"Hey, you made it!" Sam smiled as she approached taking her backpack by the top loop and handing her the keys, "Ready t'get your license?"

Morgan squealed and slipped out of her backpack, nearly jumping to the driver's' side of the beautiful sports car.

"Jeezus," Sam scoffed, lifting her brown bag with one hand before tossing it in the trunk.

"Tell me about it," Morgan giggled, a rubbed one of her shoulders.

"Hey, sweet ride, partner," Patrick winked at her as he passed in front of the Mustang with a few other football players, "See y'tomorrow."

"Yeah, see ya," Morgan blushed a little and caught Sam's eyebrow raise, immediately dropping into the driver's seat and shutting the door.

"Who's that?" Sam gave her a sideways grin as he buckled his seatbelt.

"Patrick, he's my lab partner," she muttered, glancing out the window at the young man high fiving his friends before pulling himself behind the wheel of a large, gray truck.

"Football player?" Sam inquired as she turned the engine over and checked the mirrors.

"Yeah," she nodded, but brightened momentarily, "the quarterback's name's Sam."

"Good name," he grinned, pointing ahead to the exit and Morgan pressed the accelerator gently as the car rumbled forward.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope the few of you I'm posting this for are enjoying it ;) Kudos anyone? Hateful comment? Perhaps someone else is a Blackhawks fan and we can discuss the upcoming season ;-p Seriously, I hope more of you are liking this, it's been fun to write!


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Morgan gets her license and Dean is a stressed out dick sometimes

The Department of Motor Vehicles wasn't far and she pulled into a front spot in the mostly empty lot before following Sam inside. He walked up to a woman behind a window desk and told her why they were there, she indifferently asked for several documents, including her driver's permit and a list of recorded hours behind the wheel with a licensed adult. Morgan's stomach dropped, but Sam just nodded with a grin at the bored looking woman and slid everything in the slot at the bottom of her window. Thinking she shouldn't be surprised, Morgan gave Sam a sideways glance and stifled a giggle when he winked at her.

A few minutes later, the woman handed Sam back the forms and told them to have a seat in the waiting area. Morgan's insides were doing backflips as she peered around the room at signs about recent laws, safety reminders and again warnings against drinking and driving. It didn't take long for another woman, who was at least smiling, to call Morgan's name from the other side of the room and Sam jerked his head for her to go.

The woman handed Morgan a thin packet and a pencil, directing her into a small side room with a few rows of desks, a middle-aged man was hunched over an exam at one of the front seats and Morgan chose a spot in the back. The test was nearly identical to the manual she'd memorized, even offering multiple choice options and she circled her answers, flipping the pages quickly. She caught an incredulous glare from the man still working on his exam when she got up a few minutes later and returned the packet to the surprised woman behind the desk. She shook her head in disbelief while checking the answers with another sheet of paper and stared at Morgan after a moment.

"My goodness," she scoffed with a smile, "one hundred percent and I've never seen anyone take this test faster. Guess you're excited, huh?" Morgan nodded eagerly at her, "You can sit back down, they'll call you for the driving test in a few minutes. Good luck."

"Thank you," she smiled at the woman and tried not to hop in her enthusiasm back to where Sam was sitting.

"That was fast," he said proudly when she approached.

"Hundred percent," she grinned at him and tapped the fist he offered.

"I don't expect anything less," he put his arm around her shoulders and pulled her into his side.

After a few minutes, a dark skinned, balding man approached them with a clipboard, "Morgan Winchester?"

"Yes, sir," she stood with Sam.

"I'm Gary," he nodded at both of them, "I'll be conducting your driving test. Are you ready?"

She nodded nervously and felt Sam's hand squeeze her shoulder, "You're gonna be great, good luck."

Morgan fidgeted with the keys to the Mustang as she followed Gary to the parking lot, her clammy fingers dropping them just outside the door and she picked them up holding them tightly. He walked around the sports car, making notes on his clipboard before asking her to turn the engine on and press the brake pedal. After deciding the Mustang was sufficient to pass the requirements, he got in the passenger side and directed her out of the parking lot. Morgan was especially carefully to follow his instructions, glad he didn't seem interested in small talk as she was focusing entirely on the road ahead. Gary requested a few maneuvers and Morgan happily obliged, surprised when she found them heading back to the DMV after less than ten minutes. Her stomach twisted, if the test was this short she almost surely had to have failed.

"Alright, Miss Winchester," he began when she'd parked back in the front spot, "your parallel parking could use some work, but thankfully you won't have to worry too much about that around here, everything else is good. Give this to the man at the photo counter," he handed the shocked girl a carbon copy from his clipboard, "Congratulations, young lady."

"Thank you!" Morgan exclaimed when she regained her voice and Gary smiled a large, white smile at her.

She couldn't help jumping her last step at Sam with an eager grin and wrapped her arms around him before he was expecting it.

"I'm guessing you passed," he chuckled, patting her on the back.

After a brief celebration, Morgan found the nearby photo counter and approached the man behind the machine. He hardly looked up at the happy girl while taking the thin, yellow paper from her and pointing to the stool in front of a blue backdrop. She'd seen Sam and Dean's licenses and neither was smiling in their picture, but nothing could wipe the grin from Morgan's face as the man snapped a photo and gruffly told her to come around to the other side of his booth. A few moments later, he handed her a small, warm card without a word, Morgan thanked him as he walked away and returned her focus to the treasure in her hand. She stared at her own smiling face in a small square on the license before running a finger over the officially printed name- Morgan Winchester.

"How 'bout we celebrate with some ice cream?" Sam asked as she walked over, she nodded eagerly while still smiling at the card in her hand.

Morgan's phone started buzzing right before she turned the key in the ignition and dug it out of her jacket pocket, "Hi Dean!" she was excited to share all the news about her license and school with their oldest brother.

"Hey, Sweetie, have a good day at school?" he asked quickly.

"Yeah, it was great, I-" she began eagerly.

"Awesome," he interrupted, sounding like he'd barely heard her response, "hey, listen, Claire and I need your help, we got ahold'a this book, but we're runnin' outta time for these boys, I'm gonna send you pictures of this and I need you to tell us which spell is the reversal and how to do it, ok?"

"Uh, yeah, ok," Morgan answered a little disheartened.

"Ok, I'm sending them now," she felt the vibration of text messages as he spoke, "ASAP kid. Got it?"

"Yes, sir," she mumbled and they hung up, Morgan glanced sadly at Sam, "You gotta drive, Dean needs me to translate these pictures like now."

Sam scowled and his jaw was set with irritation, but he didn't say a word as he got out of the passenger side. Morgan's throat tightened as she grudgingly got out from behind the wheel, trying to remind herself there would be plenty of chances to drive the Mustang. Picture texts kept coming through from Dean as she flipped through the first few in the passenger seat, Sam drove in silence. Morgan had just started reading through a page, pinching the screen to zoom closer, sure she'd found the reversal spell, when Dean called again.

"Hey, find anything?" he asked before she'd even said a word, putting him on speaker phone so she could continue studying the picture.

"Yeah, hang on I'm just readin' through the incantation, it's the patet a passione animi manifesta," she read the title of the spell and dragged her finger on the screen to return to the ingredient list, "you'll need part of the victims and blood of the ones who cast the original spell again, also mustard seeds, ground rose petals and ugh," she grimaced at the last ingredient.

"What?" Dean demanded and Sam glared at the phone in his sister's hand.

"The heart of a cat, cut in half," Morgan breathed the words in disgust, magic was often gruesome, but she despised whatever ancient, insane witch had concocted this spell.

"Is that all?" Dean asked and Morgan narrowed her eyes.

"Yeah," she scoffed, "put the pieces of the victim and the enchanter in first, grind the mustard seeds into them, add the rose powder and then, uh, you have to," Morgan shook her head at the awful instructions, feeling tears sting her eyes.

"What, Morgan, c'mon!" Dean growled over the speaker and Morgan suddenly felt her phone ripped from her hands.

Sam hit the screen and put the phone to his ear, "Hey, I don't know what your frickin' problem is right now, but calm the hell down! I know those boys are dying, but barking at our sister while she's tryin' to help you is bullshit! Fine, but I swear Dean if you snap one more time I'm hangin' up, she doesn't deserve that."

Sam put the call back on speaker and handed Morgan the phone with an encouraging nod.

"Morgan?"

"Yeah, I'm here Dean," she muttered, flipping the screen back to the awful spell.

"Sorry, kiddo," his low tone sounded apologetic, "I'm spinnin' out down here."

"S'ok," she shrugged.

"So wha'd I have to with this cat?" his question made Morgan scowl again, but she knew she shouldn't be surprised by Dean's ability to compartmentalize emotion for the job, or maybe he just didn't like cats.

"You have to cut the heart in half," she began as stoically as she could, trying to ignore the words she was reading, "while it's still beating, and place the pieces on top of the ingredients as far from each other as you can in the bowl, then just read the incantation."

"Awesome," he responded and Morgan bit back a comment about how it was not awesome, "thanks, Sweetie."

"No problem," she mumbled and they hung up.

Sam glanced over a few times as they drove, neither seemed interested in stopping for ice cream anymore, he didn't say anything until the tunnel entrance came into view.

"Don't let Dean ruin a great day," he said simply, patting her knee with a heavy hand.

"I'm ok," she shrugged sadly, thinking of the poor animal necessary to save two young men and missed the sad scowl on Sam's face.

"So tell me about school," he switched topics while turning through the familiar curves to the garage.

"It was good," she admitted, less enthusiastic than she was an hour before, "a lot of people knew who I was before I even met them though."

Sam scoffed with an understanding nod, "Yeah, news travels fast in school. How were the kids?"

"Nice," she told him, "Patrick invited me to eat lunch with him 'n his friends."

"The football player?" Sam gave her a sideways glance.

"Yeah, most of them were I think," she nodded, oblivious to the tightlipped smirk on her brother's face.

"Not goin' out for the cheerleadin' squad are you?" he joked.

"Actually," Morgan laughed, "a few of the girls asked me to check out their practice tomorrow."

"Really?" Sam furrowed his brow.

"They said I'd make a good flyer," she shrugged as he stopped in front of the large wooden doors, "but I don't know what that is."

Sam's expression in the darkness was clearly uncomfortable, "We'll talk about it, pull her in for me please," he requested as he got out to unlock and open the garage doors.

Morgan was actually excited to complete the homework assignments she'd been given and start reading through her new history book. Tossing her backpack on one of the library tables, she immediately got to work and Sam told her he'd be in the kitchen if she needed anything. After quickly completing the assigned math problems, she realized how thirsty she was and made her way to the kitchen, sighing at the inconvenience and wishing she could at least still fly drinks at will.

"I don't care if y'r'busy, y'r'gonna listen to me!" she heard Sam's angry, hushed tone inside the kitchen and pressed her back against the hallway wall to overhear out of sight, "It was her first day of school and she'd just passed her driving test! Dean, that girl was on top of the world and then you called! You didn't even ask her about school! Yeah, I'm sorry, you're right, y'did and then y'cut her off before she could even tell you! You know who you reminded me of? Oh screw you too! You know it's true, that's exactly the crap he'd do! No, don't call her, she's doin' her homework. Yeah, I'll have her call you tonight."

Morgan waited for several seconds, then took a few loud steps back in the hallway before entering the kitchen and grabbing a soda from the refrigerator.

"How's your homework comin'?" Sam asked brightly, as if he hadn't just been growling at their older brother on the phone.

"Good," she nodded, as if she hadn't just overheard him, "done with math, 'bout to start readin' through history."

"If y'need any help let me know," he reminded.

"Thanks," Morgan returned to the library, setting her soda can next to her phone and grabbed her history book from her bag.

It didn't take long for her to write the short essay Mr. Kirk had assigned on the events leading up to prohibition, and she flipped to the front of the text book to start devouring information about the founding fathers and Revolutionary War. As eager as she was to concentrate on the new material, Morgan's mind raced with the events of the day, all the students she'd met, the strange looks from boys and the invitation to observe cheerleading practice the next day. She had no idea what it was about, but didn't really want to ask Sam anymore after seeing his reaction, suddenly catching her phone out of the corner of her eye, she scoffed at herself. Sometimes she still forgot she had the ability to check the entire internet anytime, swiping the screen and opening the YouTube app, Morgan typed 'cheerleading flyer' into the search bar and watched as thousands of results started listing. Clicking the first video and skipping the ad after five seconds, her eyes widened as a well-orchestrated group of girls and young men tumbled and flipped around a huge mat. They formed a few groups and the smaller girls were lifted high with their arms wide above them, their smiles never faltering as they were launched several feet into the air, spun around and landed between the cradling arms of their teammates.

"Holy crap," Morgan whispered in the quiet library, there was no way she could do that, but part of her really wanted to try. The outfits were terrifying and she knew she could never wear anything like that, but as she watched the girls fly she couldn't help wanting to feel the short-lived adrenaline of spinning freely in the air.

"Hey, Sweetie?" Sam walked into the open room, "What'd y'want for dinner?"

"I don't care," she shrugged indifferently.

"Pizza?" he offered, taking the stairs two at a time.

"Sure," she nodded and decided to brave her request, "So, can I stay after school tomorrow and check out that practice?"

Sam smirked awkwardly again, pulled a chair out, flipping it around to straddle it as he answered, "I don't know if y'know what you'd be gettin' y'rself into, kid, and that position, flyer, it's pretty dangerous."

"It looks kinda fun," she admitted, glancing at her phone again and the endless list of search results.

"Found some videos?" Sam grinned, taking a peek at the screen.

"Can I at least check it out?" she pled, looking at him through her long eyelashes with the timid smile that usually got her what she wanted from Sam.

"I don't see why not," he conceded, "but, we're gonna hafta okay it with Dean if you wanna join the team 'n I'm pretty sure I know how he's gonna feel about you getting tossed in the air by a bunch of teenage girls."

Her stomach sank at the thought, "He'll never say yes, there's no point," she mumbled disheartened.

"He might," Sam shrugged unconvincingly, "If you wanna see what it's all about and meet some'a the girls I think that's great. So, uh, d'you want me to take you to school tomorrow or uh, y'think you can handle it?"

"Yeah?" Morgan smiled excitedly at him.

"I think y'got it," Sam chuckled at her, "I'll be home if y'need anything 'n it's not exactly drivin' in Chicago around here either."

"What're you gonna take if you gotta go somewhere?" Morgan thought aloud, picturing Sam cruising to the grocery store in the antique, green convertible and laughed to herself.

"I'll be good for a few hours," he grinned, "an' we got a few bikes in case."

"You ride those too?" she raised her eyebrows at him.

"Yes, Morgan," Sam scoffed, "I can ride a motorcycle."

"It's just," she giggled, "Doesn't y'r'hair get all," and she completed her question by madly fluffing her hair, laughing harder when Sam threw his head back joining in her amusement.

A while later, they ate pizza in the library and Morgan showed Sam her books and homework, staring at him momentarily in surprise when he fluently understood her math assignment before remembering her brother had gotten a full ride scholarship to one of the best universities in the country.

"Hey, Dean wants you to give him a call," Sam told her as he stacked their plates on top of the empty pizza tray, "Wanna watch a movie before crashin'?"

"Yeah, sure," she nodded, as if this was the first she'd heard of it and picked up her phone to call Dean.

"Hey, kiddo," he answered nearly immediately.

"Hi, Dean," she grinned at his more upbeat tone, "How'd the spell go?"

"We just finished it and the boys seemed to improve right away," he said happily, but lowered his voice, "Thank you, Sweetie, I don't know if I even said that earlier, but I really appreciate your help on this one."

"No problem," a warm bubble of pride rose behind her ribs.

"Congratulations on passing your driver's exam," he grumbled a little grudgingly, but she could tell he was genuinely happy for her.

"Thanks," Morgan took the license out of her pocket again and rubbed her thumb along the edge.

"So, school?" he asked simply.

"It was good," she assured him again, but not elaborating further.

"I'm sorry I was a jerk earlier," he admitted, "I really wanna hear about it, kid."

"I like it," she continued, "they teach kinda slow, but it's cool goin' to different classes with a bunch of different kids."

"Yeah, I'm glad," Dean sounded glad, but again he lowered his tone, "d'ja see pancake house kid?"

"His name's Bryan," Morgan reminded tauntingly, far more confident over the phone than when her oldest brother was standing over her, "and he's in my chemistry class actually."

"Great," Dean scoffed, "Not y'r'lab partner is he?"

"No this guy Patrick is," she told him, "he's on the football team."

"Oh yeah?" Dean was trying to keep his tone even, but Morgan heard the growls he was hiding, "How's he?"

"He seems nice," Morgan said, although she wasn't entirely sure that was true even though Patrick had been very nice to her, "he invited me to lunch with him 'n his friends."

"Oh?" she could almost see her brother's narrow eyes as he spoke, "So, uh, how were your classes?"

"Good, a little boring, but I'll live," she giggled slightly.

"Yeah, Sammy shot me a text early that you broke the assessment," Dean chuckled, "Nice goin' Einstein."

Morgan laughed with him, remembering the first time he'd called her that and she hadn't understood it was a compliment. Once he'd explained it, she wasn't upset and the name had become a private joke between them.

"Yeah, all these people kept tellin' me they heard I was smart," Morgan scoffed once her laughter subsided, "but it was like three hours into school!"

"Yeah," Dean chuckled lightly, "kids talk. Make any friends besides the jock?"

"Um," she wondered if she should tell him about the cheerleaders inviting her to practice and decided it was a conversation best brought up later since Sam had already told her she could go, "yeah, y'know, I met some girls in math and gym class, they were cool, I guess, my teachers all seem pretty nice, my chemistry teacher tells students to call her by her first name!"

"Really?" Dean sounded surprised, "Is she young?"

"Yeah," Morgan thought, "I mean maybe like Sam's age young."

"And that makes me?" Dean baited her with a hint of amusement in his tone.

"Dinosaur, dude, we've talked about this," she scoffed jokingly.

"Thanks for that," he chuckled, "So we should be home tomorrow. How 'bout I pick y'up from school?"

Morgan's stomach twisted, there was no way he wasn't going to find out about the cheerleading practice, but she still didn't want to have to ask his permission after she'd gotten Sam's and decided in this case it was better to ask for forgiveness after the fact.

"Actually," she changed her tone to a slightly pleading croon her oldest brother usually responded to, but couldn't stop the out pour of reasoning after she began, "Sam told me I could take the Mustang myself tomorrow, y'know I just got my license and he's still home if something happens, not that anything is gonna happen, cause it's not, nothing's gonna happen I swear-"

"Morgan," Dean said in a low, calm, tone.

"Yeah?"

"Babbling."

"Sorry," she muttered.

"That's fine," he conceded and she wanted to jump and scream with excitement, "nothing better happen, I'm sure it won't, just be careful. Okay?"

"I will," she insisted.

"A'right," he chuckled lightly, "I'll see you tomorrow, drive safe."

"I promise," Morgan smiled, "Love you, Dean."

"Yeah, love you too, kiddo," he said softly before they hung up.

Morgan couldn't wipe the smile from her face as she packed her bag for the next day and swung one strap onto her shoulder before leaving the library. Sam was in his bedroom as she passed, flicking through screens on his television for a movie.

"I'll be right in," Morgan told him before closing her bedroom door and dumping her backpack on the floor by her bed.

She changed into a pair of sweatpants and threw a hoody on before nearly skipping into Sam's room and landing next to him on the bed.

"Excited for tomorrow?" he chuckled.

"Lil bit," she smirked.

"Ok, well, there's this movie about cheerleading squads," he told her with an uncomfortable smile, but her eyebrows lifted at him in excitement, "it's not really one'a my favorites, and obviously, it's a movie, it's really overdramatic to actual school, but the routines they do are real. Y'interested?"

"Yeah!" she nodded eagerly and Sam sighed as he clicked the remote.

Morgan was enthralled immediately by the advanced gymnastics moves, she could tumble well as a natural defense mechanism that had been professionally honed from years of avoiding attacks, not to mention the recently added martial arts skills from her brothers, but as she watched the girls spin rapidly in mid-air she longed to try the acrobatic activity.

"Skirts are a little short," she smirked at Sam after noticing his uncomfortable gaze continued shifting at her.

"Yeah," he scoffed, "they're not too far off the real deal though."

"Well I can't wear that," Morgan mumbled almost to herself.

"Why?" Sam inclined his head at her, "Don't get me wrong, I'm not encouraging you to, but why don't you think you could?"

Morgan looked up at him sadly and without a word, simply rolled a leg of her sweatpants up a few inches above her knee and let Sam access the scarring himself. Slowly, he nodded, his face crumpled with pain for a moment before he spoke.

"Yeah," his attempt at a smile was more of a grimace, "but y'know they're really not very noticeable unless you look close."

"I feel them, though," she said sadly, running her fingers over the scars on her shin.

"Y'know," Sam brightened a little, "I bet Cas could take care'a those."

"Y'think?" Morgan smiled a little at the idea.

"Definitely," Sam nodded, "I'll have Dean give him a call, he never says no to Dean."

Morgan and Sam laughed at the movie and a few times her curiosity got the better of her and she couldn't help but ask him about a few things she didn't understand. A couple times he answered, but more often his face flushed and he stammered a confusing explanation, Morgan made a note to ask Claire instead when she got home. She really enjoyed the parts where the team did their routines, but the romantic parts were equally as intriguing in a different way, she tried to look disinterested in case Sam was glancing over.

"Ok, bedtime, kid," he announced, turning the television off and returning the hug she gave him.

"Night, Sam," Morgan slid off his bed.

"Night, Sweetie," he said as she slipped into the hallway and closed her bedroom door behind herself.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Little Kudo if you haven't already? Thanks for reading!!


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dean's reaction to Morgan joining the cheerleading squad

Sam was in the kitchen drinking coffee when Morgan walked in and dropped her backpack on the floor to pour herself a mug. The Mustang keys were sitting on the table between Sam and an empty bowl with a box of cereal and milk carton next to it, Morgan smiled at the unnecessary action, she was starting to get used to having meals waiting for her, but still appreciated it every time. While she didn't mind the whole grain flakes Sam always insisted were the healthier option, Morgan's taste in cereal was more similar to Dean's and glanced briefly at the colorful box filled with sugary goodness on the shelf, before pouring boring, dry flakes in her bowl.

"So, practice is right after school?" Sam asked.

"Yeah, three o'clock," Morgan told him after a large swallow.

"Well, have fun," he told her before sipping his coffee, "Pro'lly be home a little after four?"

Morgan shrugged at him, "I don't know, they didn't say how long it was."

"I can't imagine it's longer than an hour," he said thoughtfully, "just text me so I know where y'r'at, but don't-"

"Text when I'm drivin' I know," she sighed at the repeated reminder.

"Morgan," Sam's warning tone was becoming uncomfortably similar to Dean's, he'd even perfected the singular eyebrow raise.

"Sorry," she mumbled, shoving another spoonful of cereal in her mouth with an apologetic glance through her long eyelashes.

"Watch y'rself, Brat," he almost held back a smirk and sipped his coffee again to hide the break in his serious expression.

He walked with her to the garage, her stomach doing backflips the entire way there and it simply dropped to her knees when she saw the pretty, black coupe waiting for her in the garage.

"Ok, one more time," Sam held the keys in his hand, not extending them to his sister.

"Pay attention, no speeding, no texting, always wear my seatbelt and don't go anywhere besides school," Morgan repeated the rules he'd gone over several times over the last couple days.

"Good girl," Sam smiled, handing over the keys.

He gave her a tight hug and went to pull open the heavy garage doors as she dropped behind the wheel of the Mustang and turned over the engine with a powerful grumble. He waved as she slowly pulled passed him and she smiled widely, not taking her hands from the wheel. The tunnel was a lot longer without Sam next to her and for a minute she was afraid she'd taken a wrong turn and was about to plummet into an endless abyss, breathing a sigh of relief when sunlight finally crept through the darkness ahead.

Morgan squealed as she hit the open road and brought the car up to forty-five miles per hour, chancing a moment to turn the radio up, having already put one of Dean's mixes in the player, and pushed the accelerator up to the speed limit with Led Zeppelin blaring out of the speakers. It was an easy drive to school and she didn't even see another car until she got into town, but then suddenly it was a traffic jam into the parking lot. She turned the volume down on the radio to give her full attention to the situation she was driving into and followed the cars ahead, deciding against fighting for a front spot and turned towards a less populated part of the lot. In the far corner, she saw a black two door that sort of reminded her of the Impala. She knew it wasn't, but unlike most of the newer, plastic cars the students drove, this was older, with aggressive rigid lines like the Impala, but smaller and sportier looking. Morgan slowly pulled into the spot next to it and slid the shifter into park when her mirrors were even with the muscle car's, a trick Sam had taught her. A wave caught her attention as she was checking out her passenger side and finally looked at the driver, blushing instantly at Bryan's handsome, smiling face.

"Hey," he said brightly as they both got out of their cars, Morgan smiled at his Black Sabbath t-shirt, "nice car. S'it yours?"

"No, my brothers," she answered, peering at the front end of Bryan's car, definitely nothing like the Impala besides the aggressive, dual-headlight styling and solid metal frame, "I like yours, what is it?"

"Eighty-seven Buick Grand National," Bryan knocked proudly on the hood of his black coupe and jerked his head at the Mustang, "Is that a ninety-nine?"

"No idea," she giggled, immediately wondering why she'd giggled and then blushing when Bryan smiled at her again.

"So how do you like school so far?" he asked as they walked across the lot together.

"It's cool," she nodded, "different, but I like it."

"Yeah, give it time," he chuckled, "So, uh, if you don't already have plans f'r'lunch, you, uh, maybe wanna sit with me?"

"Definitely," she smiled, her stomach fluttering harder when he smiled happily at her response, holding the front door for her to walk through.

"Cool," he nodded, "I'm this way."

"I have English," she pointed down the other hall as students hurried passed them.

"A'right, well, I guess I'll see y'in chemistry," he shot her a quick wink before they went their separate ways.

Morgan had finally managed to wipe the goofy smile from her face as she approached room 115, but she was stopped by Kelly and a couple of her friends who were loitering outside the classroom.

"Hey, Morgan!" Kelly squeaked, "This is Heather and Christy."

"We met in math yesterday," Christy said, her sweater choice today was blue instead of blinding pink.

"Yeah, hi," Morgan smiled at the girls.

"So, Shannon told us you're coming to practice today," Heather said excitedly and looked at her friends, "she's so right, she's like perfect size for a flyer. Have you cheered before?"

"Never," Morgan smirked, "but I, uh, checked out some videos and it looks fun."

"Yeah, 'til Shannon goes nuts on everyone right before a pep rally," Christy scoffed.

"She goes nuts on you 'cause you skip practice to screw around with Josh," Heather rolled her eyes and Morgan couldn't help but giggle with the girls.

"Have you done gymnastics or tumbling?" Kelly asked brightly.

"Not, formally," Morgan answered honestly, thinking of running and flipping around the gymnasium in the bunker while sparing with Claire or her brothers, not to mention the ways her body had learned to naturally contort over years of avoiding attacks from her Mother.

"We can teach you," Heather assured her, "I gotta get t'class, see you girls at three."

Morgan followed Kelly into their class as the other two made their way to rooms nearby. Mr. Carson smiled and welcomed them enthusiastically, Morgan couldn't help but think he was a bit overdramatic as she took her seat behind Andy Andersen. Mr. Carson assigned the class to finish reading Animal Farm with a report due Friday, Morgan sighed to herself since she'd read the entire small novel before falling asleep after the movie with Sam. She supposed it would give her more time to spend pouring through the giant history text.

"So," Kelly began mysteriously as they left class and made their way to the three-hundred wing, "I heard Patrick McKellen is your lab partner."

"Yeah," Morgan nodded, assuming they were talking about the same Patrick.

"He's so hot," Kelly giggled and Morgan suddenly realized what the girl Gina in her gym class had meant.

"Yeah, he's ok," Morgan agreed with a small shrug.

"Y'know he still doesn't have a homecoming date," she said in a way that seemed there should've been more to the statement.

"Ok," Morgan smiled awkwardly, unsure where this conversation is going.

"Well I heard he invited you to eat with the football players, yesterday," she confessed eagerly, "y'know he doesn't talk to just anybody."

"So?" Morgan inclined her head quizzically.

"So, he's into you!" she giggled, "Oh, Homeschooled, you're adorable."

Morgan caught herself from glaring at the nickname, thankful her classroom was approaching and smiled when she saw Bryan waiting outside the door as students filtered passed.

"Hey," he smiled and Morgan caught Kelly shoot her a smirk.

"See you after school!" she waved at Morgan and bounced down the hallway, her blonde curls jumping with every step.

"What's after school?" Bryan asked.

"Uh, cheerleading," Morgan responded awkwardly.

"Oh," Bryan stifled a chuckle, "didn't realize you were that girl."

"What girl?" she narrowed his eyes at him.

"I didn't mean," he shook his head adamantly, "it's cool, really, you just seemed more ACDC than Taylor Swift."

"Well I love ACDC and I don't know who the other one is," Morgan snapped.

"Seriously?" he chuckled, earning another narrow-eyed look, "No, I'm jealous, I wish I didn't," he smiled and she smirked at him, "So, we still on f'r'lunch?"

"Yeah," she nodded at him and he beamed, opening the classroom door for her to go through first.

Patrick was sitting on their table talking with a few boys when they entered, he smiled at Morgan, but when he met eyes with Bryan his expression hardened. She glanced up at the handsome young man next to her and noticed he was glaring at the football player with a similar look of distain. The bell rang and Miss Ellet told everyone to take their seats as she set up a projector on her desk.

"Hey, partner," Patrick nudged her with his shoulder, causing another flurry of fluttering when he lingered a moment and she inhaled his cologne.

"Hi," she mumbled with a small smile.

"Y'know that guy?" he jerked his head slightly in Bryan's direction.

"Yeah, we've met a couple times," she offered.

"He's a weirdo," Patrick informed her quietly.

"Why?" Morgan asked and Patrick's expression said he clearly wasn't expecting a follow up question to his statement.

"He just is," he told her in a hushed tone, "just trust me."

Morgan was a little surprised by the comment, but when Miss Ellet flipped the projector on and started lecturing, she absorbed herself in taking notes and pushed Patrick's words aside. Miss Ellet made a lot of jokes and class passed by quickly before the lunch bell rang.

"Lunch?" Patrick asked her as he slung his backpack onto his broad shoulders.

"Actually, the weirdo asked me," she smirked at him.

"Oh," Patrick looked taken back, "well, you should ditch him and eat with me."

Morgan felt herself blush and shot a quick glance to Bryan waiting by the door, "I'm gonna eat with him today. Maybe tomorrow?"

"Maybe," he scoffed and left the classroom, nudging Bryan roughly with his shoulder, but he was clearly expecting it and hardly moved from the force.

"I hate that guy," Bryan mumbled as they walked into the hall, Morgan just smirked awkwardly in response.

In the lunch room, Bryan led her towards the vending machines and a small group of students sitting on and around a table, one girl was leaning against the wall on the floor watching videos on her phone and munching mindlessly from a small bag of chips.

"Hey guys this is Morgan," Bryan told his friends, offering her an open seat at their table, it was much easier to say hi to the few of them in comparison to the football team.

"Y'r'that chick in that sweet Chevy, right?" one of his friends she recognized from that day piped up.

"Dude, it's a nineteen-sixty-seven Impala," Bryan scoffed and Morgan widened her eyes a little in surprise, "don't insult the classics."

"Bryan's a bit of a gearhead," his friend joked, "I'm Franky."

"Nice t'meet you," Morgan nodded at the young man across the table, he had shaggy hair, not quite as long as Sam's but also less well kept, his t-shirt told her he was also a fan of Led Zeppelin and was about to mention it when she saw his expression hardening, his attention no longer on their table.

"Dude," Franky shifted his gaze to the other side of the lunch room a few times and eyeing his friend with concern, "you 'n douchebag havin' problems again?"

"Man, fuck that guy," Bryan scoffed, glaring across at the football team's table and raising his chin aggressively, Morgan averted her eyes seeing Patrick was scowling at them.

"Just don't get suspended again," the girl watching videos said in a bored tone.

Morgan narrowed her eyes at Bryan and he blushed a little, but didn't offer an explanation, instead he asked if she wanted to go through the lunch line. She felt Patrick's eyes on them while following Bryan to the back of the line and grabbing trays, she gave him a small smile as they passed that he returned with a slightly less intense glare. She wondered what the two boys' problem was with each other and cursed her luck for finding herself in between the awkward conflict.

"So, you live in town?" Franky asked when they'd returned to the table.

"Little outside," Morgan responded exactly as Sam and Dean had told her, vaguely.

"You drive then?" he asked.

"V6 Mustang, almost positive it's a ninety-nine," Bryan smirked at her when she simply nodded at Franky.

"Nice," he was clearly impressed.

"It's my brother's," Morgan clarified.

"I bet your brother Dean knows a lot about cars," he remarked, grinning a little at her surprise when he said Dean's name.

"He does," she admitted, still a little shocked at his memory.

"Too bad he'll kill me if he sees me, though," Bryan joked.

"Prob'ly," Morgan nodded and they laughed together for a moment.

When the lunch bell rang, Morgan caught Sam waving her down as he crossed the cafeteria.

"Hey, ready f'r'math?" he smiled when he caught up to her, nodding curtly at Bryan, "Sup?"

"Sup," Bryan growled.

"Sure," Morgan nodded, noticing the strange tension between the two boys, "I'll see you later, Bryan."

"I hope so," he smiled warmly down at her and she felt her cheeks flush again.

Sam smirked at her as they walked down the hallway, like Patrick he got a lot of attention during passing periods and Morgan almost got sandwiched between him and another boy as they high fived.

"Sorry," Sam chuckled as they continued towards their math class.

"S'cool," she laughed, "I'm quick."

"Yeah, I heard y'r'goin' out for cheerleading," he said brightly.

"Some of the girls asked me to watch their practice today," she clarified, knowing she'd have to beg Dean if she wanted to join the team.

"You should," he nodded, "front row seat to the games 'n I'm sure Patrick would love you watchin' him."

"Oh," Morgan blushed a little at the funny way Sam had finished his sentence, glad they'd reached the classroom and slipped in behind a few other students.

When math ended, she managed to sneak out of the classroom avoiding Sam and walked quickly to Mr. Kirk's history class, caught off guard by the students saying hi and calling to her, several she didn't even recognize having met, as she made her way through the halls. Mr. Kirk was wearing light colored slacks and a black button down shirt, Morgan thought her knees would give out when he flashed a wide smile at her.

He collected their assignments, giving her a sideways glance when she handed him three written pages and he stacked it on top of the barely one sheet essays the rest of the class had turned in before setting the pile on his desk. Morgan really enjoyed listening to Mr. Kirk speak, realizing occasionally she'd forgotten to actually write down what he was saying and hurried to scrawl a few notes. Way before she was ready, the bell rang to end the period and Morgan smiled shyly at her handsome teacher on her way out the door to gym class.

Mrs. Olin had apparently decided she'd had enough of the boys yelling foul language that coincidently shared part of its name with the object of scoring in Badminton and had set the gym up for something called 'dodge ball'. Morgan changed with the other girls, saying hi to Gina and her friend in the locker room and joined the rest of the class in the gym. Everyone seemed familiar with the rules and Mrs. Olin separated the class into two teams between a line of red, rubber balls. Morgan followed her team to their side tentatively, unsure what was about to happen but a quick whisper from Gina told her the prime objective was to not get hit with the balls while trying to hit the other team. When the whistle blew all the students, except Morgan, rushed towards the line of balls and started pelting them at each other. Suddenly, she understood Dean's war comparison a little better.

Morgan managed to avoid getting hit at the balls zooming passed her, it was surprisingly easy, though she couldn't help but be reminded of dodging random objects being flown at her by her Mother. Soon there were only two players left on each team, Morgan and a lanky boy on her side and two other boys on the other. Her teammate chucked a ball at one of them, managing to get him out, but unfortunately getting himself tagged out in the process. She was alone and had no confidence in her ability to throw one of those things, eyeing the boy across from her with well-hidden concern as he wound up his arm and hurtled the red ball directly at her. Morgan didn't have time to spring to one side or another and instinctually wrapped her arms around it as the rubber orb landed hard on her gut.

It was a brief moment Morgan didn't want to even look at her team, knowing she'd lost them the game, but an unexpected eruption shocked the small girl as she was greeted with several high fives.

"Nice job, new kid," one boy said happily, kicking a rubber ball hard across the gym and immediately running after it at Mrs. Olin's silent, demanding finger point.

"I got hit," Morgan said in a hushed tone to Gina when the crowd had dispersed.

"You caught it," she shrugged with a grin, "if you catch it the person who threw it's out."

Morgan smirked, thinking that would have been good information to know before the game had started.

They played one more game and while she managed to be one of the last few people on her side, a knock to the shoulder sent her laughing to the sidelines to sit by Gina. After changing back into street clothes, Morgan left the locker room with her new, tall friend as the final bell rang.

"You c'min?" Gina asked at the gym door as Morgan lingered behind.

"I got, uh, invited-" Morgan began but Shannon, Kelly and another girl she hadn't met came giggling through the gym doors.

"Oh good you came!" Shannon exclaimed and Morgan saw Gina roll her eyes.

"See y'later," the tall girl waved as she walked out of the gym.

"See ya," Morgan muttered.

"We're gonna get changed," Shannon told her as they walked into the locker room.

Morgan smiled awkwardly as more girls made their way into the gym and disappear behind the girls' locker room door, Christy squealed excitedly when she saw her. Two tall boys entered while most of the girls were stretching on the mats and Morgan didn't realize until they left their locker room, both in cheerleading t-shirts, that they were also on the squad. Once everyone was assembled and warming up, Shannon stood up and began addressing the team.

"Alright guys," she said chipperly, "I know we've had a few practices, but I finalized the routine over the weekend so that's gonna be our focus for next weekend's rally and homecoming game," Morgan's stomach turned at the reminder of homecoming, "We've been a little lopsided on our towers, but we might have a solution to that. Some of you may have already met Morgan," Shannon waved eagerly, beckoning Morgan to join her in front of the team, grudgingly, she walked up to the perky girl forcing a smile, "we asked her to come check out practice today and think she'd make a great flyer," the rest of the team murmured positively at each other, nodding at Shannon and Morgan, "Great! We'll let's get started then. Morgan if you wanna just watch for a bit over there, but I'd love to see what you've got when you're ready."

Morgan returned her encouraging smile with a small grin and head nod, taking a seat on the bottom bleacher as the squad found their places. She couldn't take her eyes off them as they started doing front and back flips across the mat and Shannon started directing different team members to perform certain moves and the suddenly a short, roughly choreographed dance step was followed by two girls flipping backwards and finishing in splits. Morgan gasped and Shannon smiled at her before turning back to the squad. They continued following Shannon's instructions, adding more and more to the routine every few minutes until she announced there was only fifteen minutes left of practice. Morgan grabbed her phone out of her pocket and Saw a text from Sam twenty minutes earlier that simply said 'ETA?'. She quickly responded, 'sorry, watching practice lost track of time, leaving in 15'.

"Ok, you wanna try a lift?" Shannon smiled down at her and Morgan slipped her phone back in her pocket.

"What?" she widened her eyes at the bubbly girl.

"C'mon," Shannon giggled, "take your boots off."

Morgan untied and slipped her tall boots off, setting them next to her backpack and joined the team on the mat in socked feet.

"Travis, Bobby, Rachel," Shannon called and the three stepped up next to Morgan, she smiled shyly up at both of them, Bobby smiled back enthusiastically with a goofy wink that made Morgan giggle, "Ok, did you see how Kari mounted?" Morgan nodded, having watched what she now understood to be called a 'mount', "Think you can do that?"

Morgan was absolutely sure she couldn't, but wasn't about to not try with everyone watching and expecting her to, so she nodded and almost instantly, Travis, Bobby and Rachel got in position. Morgan stood between them and barely had time to be nervous as Shannon counted.

"Ok, one, two and three," she clapped and Morgan felt Rachel's hands gently on either side of her waist as she jumped into the boys waiting hands and was suddenly several feet above the others, unable to stifle a giggle of excitement, "Great, ok go like this," and Morgan extended her arms wide above her just like Shannon, "Ok, keep your legs straight, and go!"

The boys tossed her a little higher and Morgan squealed at the weightless feeling before she landed in Travis, Bobby and Rachel's cradling arms.

"You're a natural!" Shannon exclaimed happily, approaching the small group as Morgan found her feet.

"That was fun," Morgan smiled.

"Can you do flips too?" Christy pipped up.

"Not like you guys," Morgan admitted and Shannon gave her a look and gesture that silently asked for a demonstration.

With a deep breath, she found a clear path of mat and took a running start before launching into handless front flip and they clapped.

"Yep," Shannon nodded happily, "you're on the team."

Morgan's stomach did a flip too, she still needed to get Dean's permission and wasn't entirely sure what the likelihood of that was. Shannon dismissed the squad as Morgan laced her boots back up her calves, leaving her and the captain in the gym alone for a few minutes.

"Hey, uh," Morgan began nervously, "I really wanna join, this looks like a lotta fun, but, uh, I gotta okay it with my brother."

"I'm sure he won't have a problem," Shannon shrugged as if this posed no issue.

"Yeah, I hope so," Morgan nodded, less confident than the other girl, "I'll let you know tomorrow."

"No problem," the brunette smiled, "I hope you do, you seem cool."

"Thanks," she returned the captain's smile, "you too."

Morgan left the gym before the rest of the team had left the locker rooms and walked through the nearly empty parking lot to the Mustang. Before turning the engine over, she slipped her phone out of her pocket and saw another text from Sam- 'sounds good, have fun, see when you get home. Drive safe.' and quickly sent 'on my way' before tossing her phone in the cup holder.

The drive home was a little more congested than the trip to school, but Morgan paid careful attention and eventually found herself on the abandoned, little road out of town towards the bunker. She thought of the first time she'd ever gone there after leaving the diner in the backseat of the Impala and had absolutely no idea where she was at, now, home was something she could find on autopilot. The bright light of the garage pierced the darkness of the tunnel and Morgan saw both her brothers' forms as she approached the already open doors and crept into the space next to the Impala.

"Dean!" Morgan unbuckled herself quickly, hopping into his open arms immediately after he pulled open her door.

"Hey, kiddo," he squeezed her tightly for a moment, "How was school?"

"Great," she smiled.

"And how was," Dean scoffed with a small raise in his eyebrows, "cheerleading practice."

"Um," she began nervously, glancing at Sam who offered a confessing smirk, "it was, fun."

He chuckled and Morgan's stomach untwisted when he smiled, "Glad y'r'havin' fun," grabbing her backpack as she went to swing it onto her shoulders and scoffing at the weight, "Jeezus."

Claire was in the library when they entered and whipped her head towards Morgan, "I leave you for a day and you become a cheerleader?!"

"Just tellin' everybody, huh?" Morgan smirked at Sam as Claire descended the stairs.

"Seriously?" Claire shook her head in disbelief.

"A few of the girls asked me," Morgan shrugged, "it was pretty fun actually."

"Cheerleaders are bitches," Claire informed her.

"Hey, easy," Dean warned, dropping her bag on the map table.

"They are," Claire shrugged.

"They seem nice," Morgan muttered, "Shannon's cool, 'n she said I was a natural flyer."

"I thought you were just watching?" Sam's tone was suddenly low and Morgan grimaced at him.

"I thought so too," she told him quietly, "but they wanted me to try."

Sam made a low growling sound, but didn't say anything, Dean looked confused.

"What's a flyer?" his brow was furrowed as he glanced between Morgan and Sam.

"The girl they toss in the air," Claire informed him and Dean looked further confused, but she was kind enough to pull up a video on her phone and turned it for him to see the advanced cheerleading routine.

Morgan watched her brother's eyes get wide, "Oh, no," he shook his head, "I thought we were talkin' about pompoms 'n crap, no way, not happenin'."

"Dean!" she nearly cried pleadingly at him, but was instantly met with his halting hand that always meant he'd made his decision.

"Morgan, you're gonna break your neck doin' that!" he pointed at Claire's phone.

She had nothing to say, his reaction wasn't surprising, but her throat tightened and she felt tears sting behind her eyes. Unable to stop the outpour of sobbing, Morgan just glared at Claire with teary eyes and ran to her bedroom, slamming the door behind her. She fell face first on her bed and screamed into her pillow, beating her fists into the mattress, when a knock sounded on her door.


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Decision is made on the cheerleading squad, Dean has to sign some papers at the school and Morgan's new lab partner continues to show her a lot of attention...

"Go away!" she sobbed, unsurprised when she heard the door creek open.

"Hey," Sam said softly, shutting the door behind him.

"I don't wanna talk to you," she mumbled.

"Ok, but if I talk to you will you listen?" he tried.

"No," she sniffled, but turned when she heard the door open forcefully.

"Listen up, Brat," Dean began, but Sam blocked him from approaching on her.

"I told you I got this," Sam growled.

"You said that Sunday and I come home to this," Dean gestured at Morgan in frustration.

"To what, Dean?" Sam challenged, "A sixteen-year-old girl who made some new friends and wants to join the cheerleading team? I'm so sorry, I'm the world's shittiest big brother, obviously only you are capable of this role."

Dean stared at him blankly, clearly unsure how to respond. Morgan's tears subsided as she sat on her bed wiping them away with the back of her hand and wished both her brothers would leave her room.

"Do you actually wanna do this?" Dean peered around Sam at the sniffling girl on the bed and she nodded sadly at him, watching him respond with a frustrated head shake, "I'll think about it."

Morgan nearly gasped in surprise as Dean turned on his heel and exited her bedroom, Sam turned with a small smile.

"He's not always, entirely unreasonable," Sam sat on her bed, raising an eyebrow conditionally, "I'm not a hundred percent sold on this idea either, but if you really wanna do it," she offered the small, timid smile, reserved especially for him, "I just want you t'be happy, as long as you're safe."

"I know," she said softly.

"Y'wanna come out 'n talk t'us?" he asked and she shook her head at him, "Ok, well, don't pout too long, we're havin' dinner soon."

She stuck her tongue out at him as he left and Sam chuckled. She understood they were both concerned she might get hurt, but Dean's immediate, and angry, refusal had made Morgan's emotions skyrocket in the same moment. Sam said it was because she and Dean were both hotheads that their confrontations escalated so quickly, Morgan didn't disagree, but it was never Dean who ended up crying in his room.

A short while later, Morgan knew she should start on her homework for the next day and slid off her bed to go get her backpack she'd abandoned on the map table, but her door opened before she reached it. Dean towered over her, his expression softened to his understanding, almost apologetic gaze as he shut the door behind him.

"Can we talk?" he asked and Morgan shrugged at him to let him know she was listening, "I may have overreacted a bit before."

"A bit?" she scoffed, but bit her lips together at the warning eyebrow raise he gave her.

"Morgan," he sighed, "I'm tryin' here, just, listen, I don't need t'worry about you landin' on your head and killin' y'rself every day."

"How d'you think I feel when you leave on a hunt?" she challenged and watched his eyes widen.

"I, uh," he stammered, "well, I guess I didn't think about it like that, kid."

"I'll be careful," she gave him a pleading look, crooning her voice in a pitiable tone.

"I watched some of those videos, not that I'll ever admit to that if anyone asks," he clarified and she couldn't help a small giggle at the joke, "you really gotta rely on your teammates, I know you'll be careful, but it's the other girls I'm worried about."

"There's a couple boys on the team too," she told him.

"That doesn't make me feel better," he growled, "but if you really wanna do this, kid, I don't wanna tell y'you can't."

She squealed and bounced on the toes of her new boots, Dean beamed at the excitement he'd instigated and pulled her in for a hug, planting a quick kiss on the top of her head.

"But I swear, kid," he didn't let her go during his conditional statement, "if you so much as jam a finger I'm pullin' the plug. Got it?"

"Yes, sir," she nodded happily in his t-shirt, knowing he was exaggerating and simply happy she was getting what she wanted.

"A'right," he released her and opened the door, "Dinners ready, c'mon."

Morgan avoided Claire's eyes in the kitchen, still upset with her about her earlier comments and instigating Dean flying off the handle with the video. She sat across from Sam, diligently typing on his laptop as usual and pulled out her phone and started playing a puzzle game the blonde had showed her.

"Not to sound like June Cleaver," Dean scoffed as he set a steaming, prepacked lasagna in the middle of the table, "but put the screens down, we're eatin'."

Sam smirked, shutting his laptop, "That show's from the fifties, they barely had TV's."

"Shut up," Dean growled.

Morgan took the plate Dean offered as he passed them out before taking a seat next to her. For a few minutes, the four silently shoveled food into their mouths. While grabbing his second slice, Dean looked at his sister, just finishing hers and taking the second helping he offered.

"So," the oldest began, "how was drivin' on your own?"

"Great," Morgan scoffed happily, "I mean, I was nervous at first, but it's not hard."

"Don't get overconfident," Dean warned and for a moment Morgan forgot she was mad at Claire and rolled her eyes at her before quickly looking away, noticing her friend's disheartened expression briefly before focusing on her brother again, "how 'bout I take y'to school tomorrow?" at her wide-eyed look of disbelief he shook his head, "I gotta go in and sign some stuff, just thought it'd be easier 'n I haven't seen y'a lot lately."

Morgan conceded she hadn't spent a lot of time with Dean in the last couple weeks, when they'd first gotten home, no one left for almost a week besides food runs, but then they started picking up hunts again. It took a long conversation of convincing to get her brothers to understand she was more than capable of taking care of herself, especially only for a few days in a well-stocked, well-guarded, underground fortress with a variety of entertainment streaming options and a library of books at her disposal, but once she had, it seemed they were only home for a day or so between hunts. She wouldn't tell them she missed them because she didn't want them to feel guilty or abandon a job on her account, but she did. The last few days with Sam had been fantastic, she hadn't even realized how much she'd been missing him, and looking at her oldest brother, Morgan admitted to herself she'd rather spend a few minutes with him than alone driving the Mustang.

"Yeah, cool," she nodded at him and he grinned with a full mouth of lasagna.

Morgan cleared her plate quickly after dinner and returned to the map table to grab her backpack, scooting around Claire on her way back into the hall towards her room. A few moments later, though, a light, rapid tapping sounded on her closed bedroom door and Claire pushed it open without waiting for a reply.

"You're one t'talk about privacy," Morgan scoffed at her from her bed.

"Ok, I'm sorry if I pissed you off with the cheerleading comments," Claire tossed her arms out in dramatic effect before pointed both index fingers at Morgan, "but stop bein' a bitch."

"Learned from the best," Morgan smirked at her.

"True story," Claire smiled proudly, "C'mon, please don't make me sit in there with them by myself while I write this stupid report."

"On that spell?" Morgan perked at the idea.

"Well the whole case," Claire shrugged, "but yeah that's a big part of it."

"The cat part was awful," Morgan grimaced.

"Truth, but," Claire began, "Dean went to the animal shelter and they literally gave this cat to us, obviously he didn't tell them the plan, but they didn't even bother asking any real questions, she was going to get put down the next day, really old and suffering, they said she had cancer, only half her lungs worked, it was really sad. I think they were just happy not to have to deal with her anymore. But he dosed her with a bunch of pain meds, before, y'know, he was fast about it, I could tell he was really upset, but those boys are alive."

Morgan thought about these words, her brother was not heartless but his job sometimes required a hardness she didn't think she'd ever have. She felt a pang of sadness for Dean and what he'd had to do, hoping the fact that he'd clearly tried to do the best thing he could in such a terrible situation helped alleviate any burden he felt. At the end of the day, he'd saved two teenage boys from certain death.

"Will you show me what all happened?" the younger girl slid off her bed and slung her bag on her shoulders.

"Of course, just don't let Sargent Psycho see," she told her and they giggled on their way down the hall.

The next morning, Morgan woke early, showered, dressed and was in the kitchen before anyone had made coffee. She was hoping Dean would want to get an early start, but upon further inspection of the bottom of his bedroom door, he wasn't even awake yet. After a soft knock didn't garner a response, Morgan tried a little harder.

"Yeah?" a low, growling croak reached her ears and she opened the door, peering into the dark room and saw Dean lying face down on his bed, practically hugging his pillow, his eyes still firmly shut.

"Were you gonna take me to school?" she asked quietly.

"Kid," Dean scoffed, squinting at the alarm clock on his nightstand, "school doesn't start for over an hour. What'd y'wanna get there so early for?"

Morgan's stomach dropped thinking of pulling up to the school during the heavy student traffic, if there was one thing the Impala did well it was get a lot of attention. Silently she hoped her brother didn't say or do anything to embarrass her and simply mumbled about being in the kitchen when he was ready, but Dean was already snoring again before she even closed the door.

Only fifteen minutes later, he dragged himself into the kitchen and gave Morgan a tired smile while he poured himself a mug of hot coffee and ran a hand through his messy, short hair. She tapped her foot impatiently against the table leg, but stopped when he lowered his half open gaze at her with a blank expression.

"What're you in such a hurry for?" he asked, sitting across from her at the table and sipping his coffee.

"Just figured you'd wanna get that paperwork done," she shrugged, she couldn't tell Dean she didn't want to walk in with him surrounded by her classmates, but the smirk on his face made her wonder if he knew that and was secretly enjoying himself.

"Mornin'," Sam smiled at them as he walked in and grabbed the coffee pot.

"Mornin'," Dean and Morgan muttered together.

"You eat breakfast already?" Sam asked Morgan and she nodded at him.

"Girl's ready t'go," Dean smiled, getting up from the table with his coffee, "guess I should make myself look decent, wouldn't wanna embarrass ya," he winked at her and Morgan felt herself blush as she scoffed at him slipping into the hallway.

"He's having way too much fun with this," Morgan rolled her eyes at Sam.

"Yeah," he chuckled, "he'll be good, don't worry."

When Dean returned, dressed in his usual attire and his hair combed in one direction, they finally set off for the school. Glancing at the time on her phone, Morgan knew they'd be arriving right when everyone else would be and took a deep breath.

As expected, the aggressive styling and intimidating sound had just about every head turning as Dean pulled to the front of the school and parked in a visitor spot. Morgan wanted to crawl under the seat, but forced herself to push open the heavy passenger door, smiling shyly at a few students giving her excited looks as they checked out the Impala on their way passed. Dean offered an encouraging grin as he got out of the car and they walked together up the concrete steps, Morgan couldn't help but notice a few girls whispering to each other while stealing glances at her oldest brother.

She led Dean to the main office, Ms. Rydell and Miss Ellet were chatting behind her desk as the young teacher grabbed papers from a wall of cubbies, but both stopped and looked at Morgan and her brother when they entered.

"Good morning, Morgan," Ms. Rydell smiled and then focused on Dean, "Are you her oldest brother?"

"Yes, ma'am," he grinned and made the older woman blush as she slid off her seat.

"I'll let Mrs. Morris know you're here," she told them and slid off her chair towards the office door labeled 'principal'.

"Guess you come by those manners honestly," Miss Ellet chuckled walking around the desk and extending her free hand to Dean, "I'm Jenny Ellet, Morgan's chemistry teacher."

"Dean Winchester," he shook her hand and Morgan saw his most charming smile grace her brother's face, the one usually reserved for diner waitresses, she felt a sudden urge to kick him in the shin, but refrained.

"Morgan's easily one of the brightest students I've ever gotten to teach," she told him and Morgan caught Dean's proud smirk before he looked back at Miss Ellet, "I've never seen anyone do a lab faster than she did Monday."

"Yeah," Dean patted his sister's shoulder, "she's our pocket-sized Einstein."

"Mr. Winchester?" Mrs. Morris left her office with the same smile Morgan had seen when she'd met the woman Monday morning with Sam.

"Yes, ma'am," Dean nodded.

"Morgan I'll see you second period. It was nice to meet you," Miss Ellet told Dean, "I'm sure we'll see each other again."

"I hope so," Dean winked at her causing a small flush of color in Miss Ellet's cheeks and instigating a hard, inconspicuous finger poke into his side from the mortified young girl next to him.

"Morgan, you can head to class," Mrs. Morris said, gesturing towards her office door, "this will only take a minute, Mr. Winchester."

Dean nodded at the principal and caught Morgan's arm as she went to leave the office, "What, no good-bye?" she smirked at him, the hallway was flooded with students, she gave him a quick hug and mumbled 'bye' into his flannel, "I'll pick you up out front after school."

She nodded that she heard him and joined the swarm of students in the hall on the way to their first class. Smiling when she saw Bryan and Franky walk through the front doors, the former immediately eyeing her and offering a small gesture that told her to wait, his friend waved as he continued towards his classroom.

"Should I start runnin' now?" Bryan asked with a grin when he approached Morgan just outside the main office, her back to the wall of windows.

"Saw the Impala?" she giggled.

"Hard t'miss," Bryan shrugged.

"I guess he needed t'sign some stuff," Morgan told him.

"Hey, partner!" she looked over Bryan's shoulder and saw Patrick wave from across the hall, offering him a shy smile and small wave in return.

"Be careful around that guy," Bryan whispered and Morgan inclined her head at him, "just, trust me."

"I can take care of myself," she smirked.

"I'm sure you can," he grinned, but it faded quickly, along with most of the color in his face as he looked over her head, "I, uh, I'll see ya in chemistry."

Morgan whipped her head around and glared at her oldest brother, leaving Mrs. Morris's office behind the window of the main office, her face flushed at the eyebrow raise he gave her and she turned in a huff towards her English class. Evidently it was perfectly fine for him to flirt with her teacher, but heaven forbid she have a conversation with a boy.

Kelly caught up to her in the hallway and before she even spoke Morgan knew what she was going to say.

"Was that-"

"My oldest brother, yeah," Morgan confirmed with an eye roll before Kelly could even finish her question.

"Wow," Kelly's eyes widened, "he's-"

"A jerk," Morgan scoffed and Kelly giggled.

"I have a little brother," she told her, "he's so annoying."

"I'd take annoying over control freak," she sighed and Kelly giggled again, perhaps she thought Morgan was joking.

They entered the classroom just as the bell rang and took their seats. As usual, Mr. Carson was very animated, spending the period doing a final review of George Orwell's Animal Farm, reminding them of the essay due Friday and to expect a test on the book the next day. The class groaned at this information, several protesting that he couldn't give them only a day's notice for an exam, but Morgan didn't understand what they were protesting about, they should've had the book read by now.

She and Kelly made their way together to the three-hundred wing after English chatting about the next cheerleading practice after school the following day, apparently, the whole team was eager to know if she'd be joining. Kelly bounced excitedly when Morgan confirmed she'd be telling Shannon she had permission to be on the cheerleading team, considering for a moment her brother might not be as much of a control freak as she often accused him of being.

"Hey," a deep voice got both girls' attention and turned to look up at Patrick, Kelly gave her a sideways smile, giggled 'hi, bye' at Patrick and continued down the hall to her classroom.

"Hi," Morgan offered a shy smile as he stared intently down at her.

"Y'gonna ditch me f'r'lunch today?" his question was gruff, but came with a grin.

"I, uh, I don't-," she shook her head a little flustered, feeling that familiar warm blush creep to her cheeks, "I don't have plans."

"Y'do now," he winked.

"Uh, ok," she nodded and followed him into Miss Ellet's class to their lab table.

Miss Ellet smiled widely at her when she passed out a pop quiz, Morgan was sure it was a much bigger smile than the teacher had given her prior to meeting Dean that morning. Again, she heard her classmates groan at an unexpected test, but it was only a few questions and half of them were multiple choice, she scoffed to herself and thought how quickly her Mother would have thrown her in a locked closet if she'd ever made that sound at her. A small confession crossed her mind, that she often made that sound at Sam and Dean and felt a pang of guilt, she'd certainly acclimated quickly to being allowed to express her opinions, but considered how much attitude she really got away with around her brothers.

Half way through finishing her last written answer, Morgan felt someone's focus on her and a quick glance confirmed Patrick was sneaking peeks at her quiz when Miss Ellet's head was bent over her desk. He gave her another wink and Morgan blushed, focusing back on her test, trying to ignore how annoyed she felt with the handsome young man. Well before anyone else, especially Patrick, finished, Morgan brought her short exam up to Miss Ellet as she had instructed while passing them out and caught another wide smile from her pretty teacher. She returned it with a tightlipped grin, praying her teacher wasn't having the same reaction to her brother as she'd seen silly girls and waitresses have many, many times.

"C'mon, le's go," Patrick jerked his head for her to follow when the bell rang for lunch.

Morgan saw the burly young man shoot a snide look at Bryan as they passed his table while he packed his bag. He offered Patrick a strong jawed glare in return, but it quickly softened when his focus switched to her and she saw him mouth 'be careful' before giving her a small smile.

She walked next to Patrick to the cafeteria, like her first day, he was constantly being called at and offered almost painful sounding high fives. They didn't talk until they reached his table and Morgan said hello to the other team members.

"We got'cha back today, huh?" Sam smiled at her when she sat next to him.

"Guess so," she smirked.

"Good," Sam pulled his math book from his backpack, his notebook lodged in the middle and cracked it open between them, "Help me."

Morgan giggled at his feigned pathetic pout and nodded, leaning closer to Sam, quickly assessing his work and explaining what he'd done wrong, immediately seeing the light bulb come on.

"Crap, it's that one step," he sighed, turning his pencil in his hand to erase his work, "thanks."

"No, problem," she smiled, feeling someone looking at her she turned and saw Patrick staring blankly at the pair.

"Lunch?" she asked brightly, hoping he'd stop looking so disinterested.

"Yeah," he nodded and she followed him to the back of the lunch line.

Perhaps it was from her lack of options growing up or maybe she shared her oldest brother's pallet, similar to a garbage disposal in pickiness, but Morgan didn't think the school food was as terrible as Patrick had made it out to be. He looked slightly impressed when her plate was as full as his on their return to the table.

"So, I heard y'r'goin' out for cheerleadin'," he raised his eyebrows seductively at her and Morgan flushed a little behind her shy smile.

"Yeah," she nodded, "I'm excited to tell Shannon next period."

"I thought you went to practice yesterday," he asked confused.

"Just t'watch," Morgan shrugged, "but my brothers said I could so."

"What d'they care?" he scoffed and she narrowed her eyes at him.

"They always care," she informed him with a little irritation at his comment and a bit more thinking of the argument over the cheerleading squad that to everyone else would seem completely ridiculous.

"Huh," Patrick chuckled lightly, "I pretty much do what I want."

"Must be nice," she smirked at him and was sure he didn't catch the sarcasm dripping from her words.

"Yup," he nodded and took a sip of his soda before setting his eyes on her again, "I'm actually havin' a pretty big party after the dance next week."

"Sounds fun," Morgan nodded slowly, not sure what to say to this statement.

"Oh, you'll be there," he winked at her, producing another light blush, she didn't know how to respond to this forwardness, strangely thankful when he continued, "I was thinkin' we could go to the dance together."

"Oh," Morgan's voice cracked a little and saw him snicker at her surprise.

"It'll be a group of us, other girls and guys too," he told her.

"Okay," she said slowly without any control of the sound coming out of her mouth.

"Sweet," he smiled, "It's a date."

Morgan's stomach turned. Getting Dean to agree to the cheerleading team was a piece of cake in comparison to what she was going to try and get him to go for now. This would take the poutiest voice she could muster and significant amount of eyelash batting, if he even entertained the conversation.


	7. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Punishment warning: There doesn't seem to be a tag for this but Morgan gets her mouth washed out with soap in this chapter

Patrick's invitation was still echoing in her mind when she walked into math class with Sam, but Shannon was a welcome distraction as the bubbly brunette eagerly waved Morgan to her desk where a few of her friends were chatting before the bell rang. She liked Shannon and knew a part of her hoped the cheerleading captain liked her as well.

"They said yes," Morgan smiled at the excitement on all the girls' faces when she broke the news.

"Great!" Shannon nodded happily, "Practice tomorrow and Friday, next week every day except Wednesday 'cause we gotta get ready for the game and rally next weekend."

Morgan's stomach twisted with nerves and excitement. What on earth had she gotten herself into and why was she looking so forward to it? The rest of the day she found it more difficult to concentrate in class with all the events of the next weekend pelting her brain. What was this rally she kept hearing about? Would she be able to learn the routine in time? Did she really want to go to a party at Patrick's house? Morgan barely noticed Mr. Kirk had gotten a rather appealing haircut as she let her nerves and emotions run wild with excitement and concern.

"So how was cheerleading?" Gina asked mockingly when they were changing in the locker room after gym.

"Good," Morgan said curtly, catching the tone, "Is it a problem?"

Gina's eyes widened quickly in surprise, waving her hands defensively, "No, I just didn't think you were that girl."

"Ok, seriously," Morgan scoffed, but kept her tone light, "what does that mean?"

Gina smiled at her seeing the shorter girl wasn't actually upset, "Just, I don't know, just like, preppy, bubbly, super bitchy. Kelly and Christy basically."

"I thought it was cool," Morgan shrugged, "I like running and doing flips 'n I don't know it was really fun gettin' tossed like five feet in the air. Do you think I'm bitchy?"

"I think y'r'cute," Gina giggled, "seriously, you're just kinda naïve, I mean, I'm sure you've had some shit, you look like it, but I don't think you know what you're gettin' y'rself into with sum'a that crowd."

"Like who?" Morgan inclined her head at the tall, thin girl.

"I heard Patrick McKellen's taking you to homecoming," she raised her eyebrows slightly questioningly.

"Yeah, I mean," Morgan shifted her eyes down and smirked up at Gina, "can I tell you somethin' and you won't say anything?"

"Yeah, sure," she nodded, sitting on the bench next to Morgan as the last the last lingering girl left them alone before the final bell rang.

"I didn't really know what to say when he asked me," she confessed quietly, "I just said okay, but I don't even know if I'm gonna be able to go."

"Why not?" Gina narrowed her eyes quizzically.

Morgan felt her face flush, she knew enough from Claire to know most of her peers wouldn't understand how strict her brothers were with her, "I just, haven't asked if I can 'n I don't know if my brother's gonna say yes."

To Morgan's surprise, Gina smiled understandingly, "My big brother graduated last year, he threatened every guy who came near me and I swear he takes pleasure in throwing me under the buss with our Mom. How old are y'r'brothers?"

"Thirty-three 'n thirty-seven," Morgan giggled at the girl's confused, shocked expression, "They're my half-brothers."

"Shit," Gina sighed as the bell rang and they both tossed their bags over their shoulders, "I thought I had it rough."

Morgan smiled, appreciating that Gina knew, in a much less extreme way, what it was like to have an overbearing, overprotective older brother, thankfully she could usually count on Sam to be reasonable. Their topic changed to Gina's homecoming dress as they exited the building in the rush of students leaving for the day, but Morgan felt her friend stop suddenly at the top of the concrete steps.

"Oh, my, God," the tall girl breathed, her eyes focused on something over Morgan's head and upon turning, realized it was Dean, leaning against the Impala, and knew her cheeks were bright red.

"I'll see you later," Morgan smirked awkwardly, Gina looked surprised, trying to get her new, naïve friend to look at the handsome stranger with the muscle car, "That's my ride."

Gina gaped at her for a moment, but quickly found her voice, "Fuck, I mean, sorry."

"S'cool," Morgan shrugged, holding back an eyeroll, "See ya."

"Yeah, see ya," Gina was still stealing glances at Dean as Morgan descended the concrete steps.

"Hey," Dean smiled as Morgan walked passed the front of the Impala to the passenger side without hardly a glance in his direction.

"I know what you drive," she snapped in a hushed tone when no one was within earshot, "you didn't hafta get out."

Dean looked a little hurt before hardening his expression at her, "Was gonna see if you wanted t'drive home, but obviously not."

"Oh, uh," Morgan felt a pang of guilt as she stammered.

"Git'in," he growled and wrenched the driver's door open.

Morgan glanced across the bench seat as Dean reversed and joined the line of cars leaving the parking lot, "M'sorry," she mumbled and heard a low throat sound from her brother, "y'r'not exactly subtle, Dean."

"What's that s'posed t'mean?" Dean shot at her quickly.

"Miss Ellet has never smiled at me as much as she did t'day," Morgan informed him, biting back the sneer in her tone as much as she could, she felt bad for snapping, but was still annoyed with him.

"Oh," Dean's confessing smirk irritated her almost as much as watching the altercation earlier and wanted to poke him in the ribs again.

"And this girl Kelly, she said Sam was hot when she saw him Monday and then she saw you this morning and, ugh, she's a slut," Morgan repeated the slur she hadn't quite understood but the context seemed appropriate.

"What'd you just say?" Dean's tone was low and hard, instantly sending shivers down her spine and making her squirm uncomfortably in her seat.

"I, uh, what?" Morgan knew exactly which word he meant because it was the first time she'd ever used that word.

"That's an awful, nasty thing t'call someone," Dean growled, "especially another girl. I don't ever wanna hear you say that again, add it to the list. Understood?"

"Yes'sir," she grumbled, hating when he mentioned any of 'the lists'.

There was the movie list which was all in good fun, R rated flicks that Dean said she had to watch when she was old enough, even Sam had added a few, after trying to reason with their oldest brother that some of the titles were appropriate at her current age. Then there was the list of rules, the obvious like obeying her brothers of course, but a few more specific as well, like not sparing outside of the gymnasium, after she and Claire had taken down a bookcase in the library when their competitive natures had gotten the better of them. The list she most often forgot about, however, was the words she wasn't allowed to say, clearly the normal cusses covered it, neither of her brothers seemed to mind ass, damn or bitch used in an amusing context, but the four letter swears were quickly reproached on the few occasions Claire and Morgan had been overheard. Like most things at home, Claire had more leniency that Morgan and the younger girl was sure the other hadn't had Dean threaten to wash her mouth out, but she was mostly confident that was an idle threat, it didn't even make sense.

As they neared the exit onto the main road in front of the school, Morgan saw Bryan's Buick turn right as the car in front of them turned left and Dean quickly followed the older coupe to the right.

"Somebody at y'r'school has taste in cars," Dean nodded ahead of them, breaking the brooding silence.

Morgan offered a snide smile at her brother, "That's Bryan's car."

The rise she was hoping to gain came in the form of Dean's jaw twitching a little as he looked straight ahead and as soon as the speed limit opened up to fifty-five he checked around the black two-door in nearly the same moment he floored the accelerator. The Impala roared aggressively and Morgan hid her face as they barreled passed Bryan and another small car before Dean left the unoccupied oncoming traffic lane, but continued pushing the sedan well passed the legal limit.

"Yeah," she scoffed at him when he finally let up on the gas, "that wasn't remotely embarrassing."

"You'll live," Dean growled, barely glancing at her as he drove towards the bunker.

Sam was in the garage, just rolling out from under the propped-up Mustang, when they arrived and he knew something was wrong the moment Morgan shut the door of the Impala a little harder than usual.

"What's up?" Sam asked, wiping his hands on a greasy rag and tossing it on the work bench.

"Speed racer over here decided to blow passed half my school on the way home," Morgan scoffed at Dean as she told Sam.

"First off," Dean started, "don't act like you know who speed racer is, and B, it was two kids, one of 'em just happens to be pancake house boy."

In the same moment that Sam's expression was understanding of the situation, Morgan exploded at her oldest brother, "His name is Bryan!"

"Don't yell at me, Brat," Dean warned with a lighthearted tone.

"You are just so! URGH! Fuck!" Morgan couldn't bite her emotion driven mouth fast enough before the mother of all the words, the one that graced the very top of the proverbial list, slipped passed her lips.

Sam looked more stunned than angry, Dean, however, had gone from a good-natured smirk to a look that Morgan feared and assured her she was in deep trouble.

"Go to your room," the oldest bit out through gritted teeth.

"Dean, I-" Morgan tried.

"NOW!" both her brothers barked at the same time, startling her into an instant sob of regret as she hurried down the familiar hallway.

That was the worst word she could ever say around either of them, it had slipped a few times after the first time she was told it needed to be stricken from her vocabulary, but generally she was just quickly yelled at on the spot, if she was conveniently standing she might find a quick swat applied to her exposed bottom. The last time she'd let that word slip around her brothers was when Dean had made his threat, that Sam had seemed agreeable to, but the punishment didn't make any sense to Morgan, she washed her mouth twice a day and the idea of brushing her teeth just didn't seem terrifying. Still, she sat nervously on her bed, waiting for the hard rap she knew would sound on her door at any minute and Dean would come in to chastise her, Morgan just prayed she wasn't in for a spanking.

And there it was, "Yeah," she said quietly, not that it made a difference as Dean was already walking in as she spoke.

He wasn't as angry anymore, his calm, no-nonsense expression prevailing, possibly even more terrifying than when he was irate as he'd never discipline her like that and she knew it, but this, this was the face of a man resolved to follow through a punishment.

"We just talked about your mouth in the car, kid. What did I tell you last time I heard you say that word?" he asked, as always, straight to business.

She looked sadly at him through her long eyelashes, he lowered his gaze, having learned a few of her tricks to manipulate him and tried to look slightly more hardened.

Realizing after a few moments of silence he actually wanted a response, Morgan mumbled the promise, "You'd wash my mouth out."

He nodded and pulled a small white box from behind him, Morgan narrowed her eyes at it and then shifted the incredulous glare to her brother.

"C'mere," he stepped in front of the sink and turned on the faucet, she didn't move a muscle, just stared at him with wide eyes, "Morgan, if y'wanna add a butt warmin' after this just keep sittin' there."

The threat was enough to make her slide off the bed and approach her brother as slowly as she dared while he was taking a fresh bar of white soap from the box.

"Dean," Morgan found a little bit of her voice and just more than whispered at him, "are you serious?"

"This is my serious face, kid," he said firmly and ran the bar under the water until suds spilled into the basin, tugging her closer to the sink by the front of her jacket, Morgan tried once more to plead with her matching eyes up at her unrelenting brother, "Open."

She wouldn't, she couldn't, it was going to be awful and terribly embarrassing. Morgan felt the sting of tears already as Dean held the wet bar of soap a few inches from her tightly shut mouth.

"One," Dean began and a few tears slipped down her cheeks, "two," she knew better than to let him get to three and shut her eyes tightly, letting out a sob as she obeyed the order and felt the slimy bar wedged halfway into her mouth, her teeth sinking into it a bit as her tongue was covered in awful suds, "I don't ever want to hear that word again from you, we've had this discussion, Morgan, 'n I told you exactly what was gonna happen. Didn't I?" she nodded as more tears slipped down her cheeks, hoping he didn't scold her the entire time, "Not a lotta fun is it?" she shook her head lightly, feeling suds start to leak out around the bar, understanding now why he'd put her over the sink for this punishment, "Not gonna say that word again are you?" again she shook her head lightly, "'Cause if y'do, you will most definitely get y'r'ass handed to you after a repeat of this," he gestured to the bar of soap protruding from her mouth and the muffled sob he received in response was enough to tell him he'd made his point.

The next few minutes, Morgan did everything she could not to look at herself in the mirror, finally just hanging her head over the sink as soap suds, saliva and tears dripped into the drain. It was certainly a word she'd known her entire life, but it wasn't like she hadn't learned the hard way from her Mother not to say it, or hadn't been reprimanded multiple times by her brothers over their months together. She knew better than to use that word, even as it had come out she wished it hadn't, and while Morgan had gotten a lot better about controlling her emotions, she certainly wasn't perfect.

"Ok," Dean stood up from her bed, took two quick strides and gently pulled the soap from her mouth, "Rinse y'r'mouth 'n grab y'r'backpack, we're all workin' in the library."

Morgan didn't argue that she'd prefer to do her homework alone at the moment and swished a few times before spitting water in the sink and reaching for her toothbrush.

"Y'can do that later," he told her with a gentle hand on her forearm.

"Dean, I can still taste it," she whined.

His smirk told her he absolutely knew that, "Then I know, at least tonight, y'r'not gonna say anything else y'shouldn't," she pouted at him, expelling a sigh as she crossed her arms, but gasped at the quick connecting swat that landed in the center of her bottom, "I think you might be overdue for a good spanking."

"No, no, I'm not," Morgan protested with wide, begging eyes, taking a step back from him with her hands instinctually covering her behind, "please, I'll watch it, I promise, I'm sorry."

"You're on thin ice with the attitude," Dean warned, "straighten up, 'cause m'not givin' you another warning."

"Yes, sir," she nodded, grabbing her backpack from her bed and walking over the threshold as he held the door open, wincing preemptively incase Dean rounded another stinging swat as she passed him, but thankfully, her behind remained safe through the hallway and into the library.

Morgan set up across from Claire at a table in the library, smiling meekly at her friend who inclined her head questioningly at Morgan's red, puffy eyes. With Sam and Dean in a low tone conversation by the bookcase she didn't dare ask the younger girl what happened and Morgan was thankful because she had no intentions of ever telling anyone. She was sure Claire would inform her that the punishment was one usually reserved for children, but she also knew exactly how Dean felt about the 'too old' argument. Her tongue still stung a little from the soap and she was still completely mortified by the entire ordeal, having already resolved herself to never go through that again.

A loud bang above them turned everyone's heads to the balcony and a moment later the bottom of a tan trench coat came into view, descending the spiral stairs. Morgan and Claire smiled excitedly at each other, pushing away from the table to follow Sam and Dean down the stairs, neither had seen the angel since they'd all worked together the month prior on ridding the world of Lucifer. He looked very much the same as always, if not slightly less burdened, and he gave the girls the closest thing to a smile they knew he was capable of as the group approached in the open room.

"I didn't know you were comin' over," Morgan hugged him after Claire, he seemed taken back, but appreciative of the girls' affection.

"You 'n I've been a lil busy since we got home," Dean raised his eyebrows and Morgan blushed, thankfully Claire nor Castiel seemed put off by the comment, Sam offered a similar expression as Dean, silently informing her he was fully behind their brother's earlier response to her swearing.

"Dean asked me to come by," Castiel informed them, focusing on Morgan as if she should know what he was referring to.

"Yeah, thanks," Dean nodded at his best friend before jerking his head at his sister, gesturing towards the hallway, "C'mon."

"Why?" she asked, looking at Sam who opened his mouth to explain.

"Can you just listen?" Dean growled, "Or are y'hell bent on arguing everything with me t'day?"

"Morgan," Sam shot a sideways glare at Dean before focusing again on the small girl, "d'you remember when we talked the other day, about what Cas could pro'lly help with?"

Understanding hit her at Sam's hidden reminder of their brief conversation on how self-conscious she felt about the scars covering her body, and she beamed first at Sam, then Castiel and finally, offered Dean an apologetic smile, glancing at him through her long eyelashes. For as hard as he was on her, she considered for a moment that she hadn't exactly been easy on him lately either, but as always, he would do anything he could to make his sister happy.

She followed Dean and Castiel down the hall and into the kitchen, the angel asked her to have a seat on the table and she complied immediately.

"Can you take your coat off please?" at Castiel's request Morgan shucked off the blue canvas jacket and the angel took hold of one arm, gently pushing her sleeve up her forearm.

Morgan saw Dean turn away and heard a small growl, she knew he had a hard time with the reality of her past abuse and wanted to comfort him, telling him she was okay thanks to him and Sam, but bit her lips together and watched the angel assess the years of damage.

"What are these from?" Castiel asked bluntly, running a finger tenderly over the light, raised scars that were nearly uniform down both arms and legs.

"This cord she used," Morgan mumbled, hoping her brother didn't hear, but the tension in his shoulders after she said it told her he had.

"And this?" Castiel put his hand on her back over her shirt and Morgan shook off the immediate surprise, realizing he probably only needed to touch her once to understand all the damage even if he couldn't see it.

"That," Morgan sighed, remembering the multiple attacks well, "uh, that's when I learned how to make fire, I wasn't very good at it at first," she admitted bitterly, hating the woman who'd taken joy in the pain she'd caused.

"May I?" Castiel asked and at Morgan's small nod he stepped around to her side and pulled the back of her shirt up to her shoulders.

Morgan felt rather exposed, even though Dean was facing the other side of the kitchen, but at an uncharacteristic gasp from the angel, her brother whipped around and advanced on them.

"Dean, no, you don't," Castiel tried to stop her oldest brother, but Dean was around the table next to him in the same moment, "want to see this."

"What the fuck?" he breathed quietly and in the seriousness of the room Morgan managed to bite back a comment about him using the cuss she'd just gotten punished for saying.

"It's a burn," Castiel explained.

"I know what it is, Cas," Dean snapped and Morgan wished she could see either of them as she slumped on the table with her shirt bunched on her shoulders.

She was more than familiar with what they were looking at, a mangled patch of skin, just below the center of her shoulder blades, overgrown on itself from years of trying to heal. Her Mother would almost lazily send a fiery attack at the little girl every time she failed to produce fire of her own, the old witch seemed to think it was an appropriate punishment. She remembers trying to proudly show her mother the purple dancing girl when she'd finally accomplished the feat, but the woman simply slapped the tiny flame away.

"When did this happen?" Castiel asked, tearing Morgan from the awful memory.

"I think I was four," Morgan glanced back at him and felt her shirt being gently lowered before two strong arms wrapped around her from behind and she pulled a few inches back on the table into Dean's torso.

"Cas," Dean growled, "you find out where that bitch's soul went 'n if she ain't in hell you better put her there."

Castiel just nodded at the order.

"I'm okay, Dean," Morgan assured him, feeling his head dip briefly on her shoulder.

"I know, kid," he mumbled, releasing her from his arms so she could turn to face them.

"Morgan," Castiel began, "this will be uncomfortable and with the age of these wounds it will take longer, it may take more than one try to heal them completely."

She nodded her understanding and Castiel held out his hands for her own, but before extending her reach, Morgan looked pleadingly at Dean, "Please don't leave me."

"M'not goin' anywhere," he pulled her by the back of the neck a little to plant a quick kiss on her forehead.

"You can stay, but you can't touch her," Castiel told him and Dean gave him a sideways glare as he pulled his hand back slowly and the angel turned to Morgan, "Ready?"

She nodded and slipped her hands in his, a moment later felt her entire body writhing under her skin. Uncomfortable wasn't the word she would have chosen for the feeling taking over her, it felt like hundreds of snakes had replaced her muscles and bones and all she wanted to do was cry at the strange sensation and pain. Morgan tried to keep her eyes focused on the matching set above her, but at a particularly difficult shooting of power, she saw Dean's face break and forced her eyes closed. It seemed like a long time before she felt her body return to normal and wasn't even sure when Castiel had let go of her hands. As her eyes slowly fluttered open she saw Sam and Dean staring at her with concern covering their faces, Castiel had taken a few steps back, but remained observant.

"Are you okay?" Sam put a hand on her shoulder with a gentle squeeze.

"Yeah," Morgan nodded slowly, although she was sure her legs would not support her for another few minutes, "yeah, m'okay."

She rubbed her hands up her bare arms in a habitual, comforting action, but stopped with surprise and held both arms out to examine closely. Smooth, unmarked, pale skin covered her arms as if hundreds of tiny scars had never resided there, finally tearing her disbelieving gaze away, she beamed at Castiel behind her brothers.

"Thank you," she whispered in awe.

"You're welcome," he nodded, approaching the girl, "May I see your back again."

She nodded and saw Sam shoot Dean a confused look that the oldest brother simply shook his head at as Castiel lifted the back of her shirt again to her shoulders.

"It's improved," he told her, "but I'm afraid this one will take a bit more focused energy, scars created by magic are not easy to alleviate."

Sam couldn't help his curiosity, even as Dean tried to pull him back, and Morgan heard the sharp inhaling of breath from him as he moved around the table. A moment later someone had pulled her shirt back down, she felt very on display and wished her legs would stop shivering so she could jump down from the table.

"What-" Sam began angrily.

"That twisted bitch," Dean bit out, "burned her until she figured out how to make fire," Sam gaped at their oldest brother as Morgan shifted her eyes down sadly, "when she was four."

She felt Sam's eyes on her, but couldn't meet his sad expression until he gently tugged her chin up to look at him, his hazel eyes damp with emotion. Sam just shook his head in sad frustration and pulled her into a tight hug. Morgan knew how her brothers responded to stories of her past, stories of her Mother, which was why she didn't tell them much about it, hating to see their expressions break, knowing they were wishing they could've done something, wishing John had done something. Sometimes Morgan still thought about that dream, thought about how John had been so close to finding her, and while she was sure her Mother would've killed him if he'd tried to take her, she couldn't help but wonder if the Winchester patriarch could've beaten her. She'd seen what her brothers were capable of and despite deep rooted fear of her Mother, she knew the woman was never on the same level of power as Lucifer.

"Her body will need to heal before I can try again," Castiel informed Dean.

"How long?" Morgan asked as Sam released her from the embrace.

"A day or so," Castiel confirmed.

"Are you staying?" she asked and saw Sam and Dean look at each other with a quick shrug of agreement.

"I can," the angel nodded, shifting his gaze to Dean questioningly.

"You know which room's yours," Dean told him and Castiel smirked at him before nodding slowly.

Feeling more control of her legs, Morgan hopped off the table, but felt Sam's hand on her shoulder for support.

"I got it," she smiled at him and he pinched her shoulder lightly before letting go.

"Why don't y'go work on y'r'homework with Claire," Dean jerked his head at the hallway, "I'm gonna start on dinner."

She knew he was asking her to leave so the three of them could talk without her, but was more interested in finishing her school work than listening to them talk about her scars. With a nod, Morgan went to leave the kitchen, but her oldest brother caught her arm and pulled her towards him in one more, quick embrace.

"You know how much I wish it'd been different," he sighed.

"I know," she nodded in his chest, for as much as her brothers wished they could've taken away the pain she'd endured through her past, Morgan wished she could take away the pain they felt every time the subject came up.

Claire looked up from the table in the library when Morgan bound up the stairs alone.

"What was that all about?" the blonde asked and Morgan just extended her arms excitedly and saw understanding wash over her friend, "Awesome, Morgan!"

"Looks good, right?" she smiled, unable to take her eyes off her fresh skin.

"Gonna look great in that cheerleadin' outfit," Claire jeered lightly.

"Bitch," Morgan scoffed, glancing quickly at the hallway and sighing inwardly with relief when they were still alone.

"So, do you have to do the homecoming game next week?" Claire asked and Morgan could tell she was trying to be her own brand of encouraging.

"Yeah, I think so," Morgan nodded, the idea was nerve wracking, but seriously how many people went to a football game?

"Did Bryan ask you to the dance, yet?" she raised her eyebrows quickly a few times.

"Uh," Morgan flushed a little, "actually, my, uh, lab partner asked me."

"That meathead Patrick?" Claire's eyes widened at Morgan, after only a few comments about the large, young man, her friend had made her decision on him.

"He's not," Morgan tried, but had a hard time finding excuses, "I mean, he's okay."

"That's always what I look for in men," Claire scoffed, "okay."

Morgan sighed at her friend, "He's really, I don't know," she plopped in the arm chair dramatically, "he's definitely not smart, but he's really cute and his arms are all big, and he doesn't really smile at a lot of people but he does at me."

"Yeah," Claire nodded understandingly, "we've all fallen for the big, dumb jerk who's nice to us for five minutes."

"It's definitely been more than five minutes," Morgan protested.

"It's an expression, Cas," Claire joked at her occasionally too literal friend and they giggled together for a moment before the blonde curled her feet beneath her in the chair and eagerly asked the younger girl for details, "So, how'd he ask you?"

"He, uh," Morgan thought about her and Patrick's conversation during lunch, "Y'know I, uh, I don't think he did."

"What'd y'mean?" Claire narrowed her eyes and her feet slipped back to the floor.

"He said he was havin' a party after the dance," Morgan told her and the smirk on Claire's face was a clear indication of her doubt that the younger girl would be allowed to attend such an affair, "an' that he thought we could go to the dance together, it's like a group of them I guess."

"So are you going with him or in a group including him?" Claire asked the clarifying question.

"Well," Morgan glanced at the hallway to make sure no tall shadows were looming towards the open room, "I didn't know what to say, and okay just kinda came out, and then he said 'it's a date', so."

"Yeah," Claire nodded slowly as if she was contemplating her next words hard, "he sounds like a tool."

"What do I do?" Morgan sighed at her friend.

"Do you wanna go with him?" she asked.

"I don't know," the younger one shrugged, "I really don't even know what to expect besides what you've told me 'n movies, but I kinda like some of his friends, Sam's cool and I know some of the girls from cheerleading are s'pose to be there."

"So you like some of the other people around him?" Claire persisted and Morgan slumped forward in the arm chair, exhausted with her questions, "I get it, he's cute, but there's a lotta cute guys, some of 'em aren't idiots either."

"He's not an idiot," Morgan defended weakly.

"I'm just sayin'," Claire shrugged, "he sounds a little, pushy, just be careful."

Her final statement reminded Morgan of Bryan's warning and she wished people would believe she could take care of herself. Before she had a chance to respond even agreeably to Claire, however, Sam's heavy footsteps echoed through the hallway he appeared from a moment later.

"Hey, anybody got a problem with burgers?" he called and at both eager head shakes disappeared back towards the kitchen.

"So, are you gonna ask them?" Claire asked in a hushed tone even after Sam's footsteps had disappeared.

"Not tonight," Morgan shook her head, after the cussing episode earlier she knew better than to try either of them on the topic so soon, "please don't say anything."

"Never," Claire shook her head adamantly.


	8. Chapter 8

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Fuck you empty box.

The girls were both just finishing their separate reports as Sam, Dean and Castiel walked up the stairs to the library, the delicious smell of bacon cheeseburgers wafting just ahead of their entrance. Castiel carried two plates and set them in front of the girls, sometimes Morgan forgot the angel didn't eat since he never seemed bothered by watching them devour food, and each brother pulled a can of soda from their jacket pockets after setting their full beers on the empty table. For as many restaurants as she'd eaten in over the months with them, expanding her pallet's limited experiences, Morgan was convinced Dean made the best burgers and offered a tightlipped, full-mouth smile across the table to her oldest brother.

"So, how you gettin' t'school tomorrow?" Dean asked, after setting the second half of his burger down and taking a long sip from his beer.

Morgan couldn't help a tiny, hopeful grin over her soda can, shifting her gaze between Sam and Dean, unsure who was the deciding vote, "Can I, uh, take the Mustang?"

They smirked identically at each other before settling their eyes simultaneously on her and Sam nodded, "Be careful."

"I will," she beamed at him, "I have practice tomorrow."

"What are you practicing?" Castiel interjected.

"Cheerleading," Dean and Claire scoffed together, both met with a glare from Morgan and Sam.

"I'm familiar with the activity," he nodded and Morgan looked at him with surprise, "though I don't think you fit the stereotype normally associated."

"That's okay," Sam told Castiel and smiled encouragingly at his sister, "stereotypes don't mean anything."

"He's right," Dean nodded, "by hair stereotypes Sam's a woman."

Sam shot Dean an unamused scowl, but couldn't help a smirk as everyone chuckled.

"How do you know what cheerleading is?" Morgan couldn't help asking the angel.

"I know about most things," Castiel informed her, "I just do not always understand the human motivations or thoughts about everything. Are you enjoying school, Morgan?" Castiel asked pointedly.

"Yeah, it's cool," she nodded, "different, but I like it."

"What's y'r'favorite class so far?" Sam asked setting his beer down after a long sip.

"History," Claire crooned and Morgan whipped her head at the blonde with an incredulous gaze in her wide eyes.

"What are you studying in history?" Castiel asked, oblivious to the confused looks the comment had garnered from Sam and Dean.

"Mr. Kirk," Claire mumbled through a stifled laugh and Morgan backhanded her on the arm.

"Holy crap, shut up," she urged through a bitter giggled at Claire, making the older girl fall into a fit of laughter.

"I'm not familiar with him," Castiel stated, "When is he from?"

Claire and Morgan glanced at the angel and then at each other before both dissolved into a giggling mess. Sam and Dean looked at each other, shaking their heads with amusement and Castiel looked completely lost.

"Uh, oh," Dean smirked at his blushing sister, "somebody got a hot for teacher thing goin' on?"

"Oh, you're one t'talk," Morgan scoffed lightly, satisfied when she saw a little color rise on his cheeks as he smirked admittingly.

"What's this?" Sam sat forward with a grin.

"Dean hit on my chemistry teacher this morning," Morgan informed the table, glad she wasn't the only one getting called out.

"You didn't!" Sam stared wide-eyed from Morgan to Dean.

"I didn't!" Dean protested.

"Smile wink combo?" the younger brother asked Morgan.

"Whole package," she assured him with a sly grin at their oldest brother.

"Damn it Dean," Sam sighed.

"Least she's age appropriate," Dean tried to look seriously at Morgan.

"All I said was he's a good looking older guy," she threw a sideways glance at Claire before looking back at Dean.

"How old we talkin'?" Dean asked, unable to help a smirk.

"I don't know," his sister shrugged, "like y'r'age-ish."

"So, dinosaur?" he offered.

"Precisely," Morgan nodded at him with a smile.

"Well," Dean tapped Sam on the shoulder and nodded towards their sister, "while I was flirting with Miss Ellet, I learned she's never seen anyone do a lab faster than her."

Sam grinned proudly without an ounce of astonishment on his face, "Doesn't surprise me," inclining his head at his brother, "So you admit you were flirting?"

"I might'a winked," Dean shrugged in admittance.

"An' you did that smile," Morgan reminded him, feeling less upset about the altercation after having a good laugh with everyone about it, taking a little pleasure in Dean's pink ears.

"What smile?" he narrowed his eyes with a small grin.

"The one you usually flash just before a waitress drops her number on the table," Morgan's statement caused Sam and Claire to each put a tight fist next to their shocked smiles before breaking into laughter.

"I'm sorry," Castiel interjected from the end of the table and they all looked at him as if they'd just remembered he was there, "I didn't quite follow. What are you learning in history?"

A moment of silence was followed by boisterous laughter from the four while the angel simply looked annoyed and confused.

Morgan found herself engrossed in her history text book before falling asleep, reclined on her bed in the quiet bunker, trying to keep her mind from all the concerns and excitements she had for homecoming the following week. Realizing it was much later than she thought and feeling the sudden urge to pee, she closed the large book and slipped to her door, pulling it open silently. When the bunker was this quiet, Morgan hated to disturb the peace, perhaps an old instinct from sneaking to the kitchen when her Mother was asleep to pilfer any food she could find.

"I thought you agreed with me?" she heard Dean's hushed voice from Sam's partially open bedroom door, pressing her back against the wall to listen to the conversation in the next room.

"About the F-bomb, yeah, we've warned her enough," Sam told him in a similarly low tone, Morgan strained to hear them, "but when Cas showed up all she wanted was an explanation."

"Well I didn't think she needed to get called out in front of everyone about those scars," Dean replied.

"But did you need to flip out?" Sam asked.

Morgan heard Dean make a groaning sound in exasperation and felt a pang of guilt knowing she caused it, "Sam, she just keeps pushin' my buttons and I'm reactin' on instinct."

"Dad's instinct," the younger brother scoffed.

"Sometimes, yeah," Dean said gruffly, "y'know if Dad was here she never would'a had a chance to join that team, hell she wouldn't even've been given the option to go to a real school and you know it."

"And if I hadn't convinced you of both those things she wouldn't be either," Sam challenged.

"I'm hardly convinced," Dean growled, "but, ugh, damn it when she gets all happy and excited about somethin', how am I s'posed to say no?"

"I know," Sam chuckled.

"Oh I know you do," Dean scoffed.

"What's that s'posed to mean?" Sam questioned lightheartedly.

"I'm just surprised you can still stand up straight while being wrapped around that tiny finger," Morgan could nearly see the smile on Dean's face as he spoke.

"I'm not-" Sam started, but chuckled briefly, "yeah, okay, maybe a little."

"So somebody's gotta be the hardass," Dean resolved.

"But you're not Dad," Sam reminded, "when we were kids and I questioned his orders, you'd explain them to me when you could, you knew all I wanted was t'know why. So, why're you gettin' all Corporal Winchester on her?"

"I don't know," Dean sighed, "when we were kids, I don't know, Sam, I got it, while I never had the brain damage to go toe t'toe with him like you, I knew where you were comin' from, but now it's like I'm startin' to understand why Dad got so frustrated at you f'r'just arguing every stupid little thing."

"I guess you are old enough to be her dad," Sam chuckled.

"Shut up," Dean growled, but Morgan heard the amusement in his voice.

"Could you try t'ease up a little?" Sam pled, "Just try 'n remember what it was like t'be sixteen."

"Best if I don't think about that," Dean scoffed, "I'm already worried 'bout all these boys who seem to be giving her attention."

"Okay," Sam conceded, "but she's smart, Dean."

"She's brilliant," Dean corrected, "but she has no experience with other kids, especially boys, I walk outta the principal's office this mornin' and right fuckin' in front'a me that Bryan kid's layin' it on, 'n I hear she had lunch with the football team her first fuckin' day, Sam, I seriously don't know what t'do, I just want her to be happy, but she's so innocent, and so pretty, I just want to do anything I can to keep her from gettin' hurt."

"We're in the same boat, Dean," Sam assured him, "but we talk t'her, make sure she understands what could happen, but we can't restrict her based on other kids."

"How 'bout I restrict her based on her attitude?" Dean growled and Morgan's stomach twisted, she also had to pee badly, but resolved herself to hear as much of their conversation as she could.

"Yeah," Sam conceded, "she's a bit like both her brothers and her old man, not t'mention Claire hasn't exactly helped with the feisty attitude display lately."

"If Dad was here, that girl wouldn't be able t'sit down half the time the way she's been actin'," Dean said confidently.

"You're right," Sam agreed, "but y'r'not Dad. An' she's not a bad kid, Dean, you know that."

"Of course she's not," the oldest scoffed indignantly and Morgan couldn't help a small smile in her wave of confused emotions.

"We've given her a lot of leeway because she'd never had it," Sam stated, "I'm not sayin' we don't pull back on the reigns a bit, but let's try to remember she's findin' her feet as much as we are, hell more considerin' neither of us just decided to dive into a whole new life experience. Cut her some slack, 'n yes I will step up a bit on the hardass side."

"Yeah," Dean scoffed, "sure, she'll hit'cha with that pouty face 'n y'r'gonna melt like butter."

"Gimme some credit," Sam argued, "I keep her in line, I'm just not as hard on her as you."

"Weakstick," Dean mumbled.

"Y'r'just jealous 'cause I'm her favorite," Sam joked.

"Only 'cause you practically gave her your Mustang," Dean pointed out.

"Easy win," Sam chuckled.

"I swear Sam," Dean growled seriously, "if this car thing goes South I'm gonna kick both y'r'asses."

"I know," the youngest grumbled, "it won't."

Morgan heard the volume on Sam's television increase and their conversation dwindle into small talk, taking the opportunity to quietly slip down the hall towards the bathroom. Hardly any of their words had been surprising, she and Dean had certainly butted heads more than a few times recently, almost always over something meaningless that simply escalated due to their mutual quick tempered reaction. Sam had mediated a lot of these arguments, often getting them both to agree the debate itself was pointless and they'd perhaps responded too volitively.

But the constant comments she kept hearing people make about her naivety was starting to get under her skin. Morgan had fended for herself her entire life, longer than she could even remember, she was not unaware of the ways of the world even if she didn't have the most extensive knowledge of pop culture. Her Mother had drilled it into her that everyone had malicious intentions, no one could be trusted, but her brothers and even Claire had proven that wasn't true. Morgan knew she had to be warry of the kids at school, but after all the evil she'd survived, she simply wasn't that concerned.

Morgan parked the Mustang in the back of the parking lot and saw Heather and Kelly on their way into the school. They called to her, waving excitedly, and despite being unsure of both girls, Morgan did want them to like her, they were after all her teammates.

"Oh, my God, is it true?" Heather squealed, "Patrick McKellen asked you to homecoming?!"

"I knew he would!" Kelly reminded Morgan pointedly.

"Yeah," Morgan offered them an unsure smile, "I still don't know if I can go though."

Both girls looked completely shocked, stopping dead at the bottom of the stairs.

"But didn't you say yes?" Kelly's question sounded more like an accusation and Morgan wanted to snap that he'd hardly asked.

"I didn't know what to say," she admitted, forcing the bitterness out of her tone, "but I doubt my brothers are gonna let me go with a date."

Heather brightened immediately, "But we're all gonna be there! Me, Kelly and Christy are getting ready at my house before meeting up with the boys for the dance, you should come over!"

"Yeah!" Kelly agreed excitedly, "Just tell them you're going with the girls, I mean you have to be there!"

Morgan considered this as they walked through the front doors together and towards their first classes. Realistically, she knew both Sam and Dean would be a lot less adverse to her going to a dance with a group of girls, Sam might even encourage it considering how supportive he'd been in getting Dean to agree to cheerleading. Despite trying to convince herself it wasn't a lie, simply withholding the whole truth, Morgan was very aware neither brother would share that opinion.

She slipped out of her English class after the bell just before Kelly and made her way to the three hundred wing alone, returning the salutations she received from students she only barely recognized. Bryan was walking up from the opposite side of the hall when she reached their classroom and she smiled at him as he approached.

"Hey," she said brightly, but he only offered a weak smile and slipped in the room with other students, Morgan followed feeling a pang of sadness at the slight.

She glanced over at him a few times after they took their seats, but Bryan was giving his full attention to his chemistry text book and a minute before the bell rang Patrick took his seat, blocking her view.

"Hey," Patrick grinned, flipping open his notebook with thick fingers.

"Hi," Morgan responded quietly as Miss Ellet started passing out lab instructions.

He leaned close when the pretty, young teacher turned to the supply closet, "I can't stop thinkin' about how hot y'r'gonna look next weekend," Morgan blushed at his words and the seductive smile, offering what she knew was a terribly insecure grin and eagerly focused her attention on the lab guide.

Morgan successfully concentrated on the experiment for most of the class period, only responding to Patrick about the work they were doing, but he didn't seem to mind the blushing smiles he earned with non-class related comments. Bryan was one of the first out of the room when the bell rang.

"Lunch?" Patrick asked while shoving his notebook into his bag.

"I, uh," Morgan's mind raced for an excuse, "hafta ask Mr. Kirk about somethin' f'r'history, but I'll pro'lly see'ya in there."

"Sounds good," he nodded satisfactorily and she walked the opposite way as him away from the classroom and slipped into the girls' bathroom as soon as he rounded the corner.

Her stomach growled as she sighed with relief, avoiding lunch seemed the only plausible option if she didn't want to sit with the football team, it wasn't the team she minded so much and hoped Sam didn't need any help on his math. Bryan's face kept floating in her mind, the weak smile he'd forced at her was so unlike his usual expression her stomach twisted a little with concern over what it meant. She wanted to confront him in the lunch room and ask why he hadn't said hi back to her, but didn't want to deal with Patrick's guaranteed scowls from the other side of the cafeteria. Finally, it occurred to Morgan that maybe Bryan had heard Patrick had invited her to homecoming and wished she could explain to him that she hadn't known what to say. She really wished Bryan had asked her first, knowing it wouldn't change whether she could go or not, but the idea of telling him her brothers wouldn't let her go seemed far less nerve wracking than Patrick. Maybe Kelly and Heather's idea was worth a try.

Morgan's stomach was painfully empty by the time she walked into Mr. Kirk's class. He was wearing a button down with a dark blue, striped tie and black slacks, Morgan's favorite time of day was quickly becoming the hour she got to watch him pace in front of the class, spouting information in his deep, smooth voice. Too soon, the bell rang and students flooded into the halls on their way to the final class of the day.

"Hey, girl," Gina called from across the hall before Morgan walked into the gymnasium.

"Hey," Morgan brightened at her tall friend.

"You weren't in lunch today," Gina inclined her head questioningly, "was gonna see if you wanted to eat with us."

Morgan's stomach ached with the reminder of her missed lunch, but brightened a little at the belated invitation, "I didn't know we had the same lunch period."

"Yeah well," Gina laughed, "if you weren't surrounded by boys all the time you might," Morgan felt her face flush as she grimaced apologetically, "I'm kidding, I just noticed yesterday," the tall girl giggled, "you should find me tomorrow though."

"Definitely," Morgan smiled with relief and followed Gina into the locker room.

Mrs. Olin was her usual, less than chipper self, as she wheeled a bin of basketballs in from a storage room and split the class into three teams of five and one of four before instructing them to the baskets. Morgan noticed the gym teacher seemed to prefer sitting in her office with the door open while class was going on, occasionally yelling at a student who was being too loud or if she caught something out of the few feet of view she had into the large gymnasium.

Shannon was already in the gym pulling mats onto the floor when Morgan's class was leaving after the final bell. Unsure what she was supposed to wear, she'd just stayed in her gym clothes and sneakers.

"Hey, want some help?" she offered the captain.

"Yeah, thanks," Shannon smiled, pointing to the last mat folded in the storage room.

Members of the squad started filtering in as Morgan and Shannon situated the mats in the middle of the floor. The gym doors opened when a few more cheerleaders slipped in and walked immediately to the locker room, but Morgan noticed a woman follow them in wearing yoga pants and a zip-up hoody, her hair in a high, bouncing ponytail and the same white tennis shoes the team wore. Shannon brightened at her when the last yellow and blue mat slapped into place on the hardwood.

"Sherri, you're gonna love this girl!" Shannon grabbed Morgan's wrist unexpectedly and pulled her towards the petite woman, "Sherri, Morgan, Morgan, Sherri, Sherri this girl is a complete natural at the toss!"

"Hi, doll," Sherri smiled widely at Morgan, shifting her eyes to her purple sneakers and back to her bright, green eyes, "You excited to be on the team?"

"Yes, ma'am," Morgan nodded at the woman she wasn't quite sure why she was talking to anyway.

"No, no, no," Sherri laughed, shaking her head so hard her oversized sunglasses almost flew off, "everyone calls me Sherri, except Heather who calls me Mom, but I can't get her to stop," she sighed at the end of her giggle and Morgan couldn't tell if she was serious or not.

"Okay," she nodded her understanding, but couldn't bring herself to say the woman's first name.

Her Mother had been brutally insistent upon being referred to as 'ma'am' if not 'Mother' and not that she'd exposed her daughter to many people, especially if she could help it, but the old witch had made sure Morgan knew how to behave politely when she did.

"Sherri's our coach," Shannon informed Morgan, suddenly making it clear why she was in the gymnasium.

"I watch," Sherri conceded, "and give an opinion sometimes, but Shannon is the real mastermind. I'm just here to make sure the ambulance comes if anyone breaks a neck," she laughed, but Shannon shot her a wide-eyed pleading look after catching the color draining from Morgan's face, "I'm totally kidding, doll, I used to cheer in high school and no one ever got hurt, it's just an old joke."

Morgan nodded at her, she didn't appreciate the nickname 'doll' or the reminder of Dean's fear. Her stomach twisted with nerves as she followed along with the team to the stretches Shannon was doing in front of them. She felt a bit better after joining in a few flips across the mats, a few of the girls showing off with elaborate twists midair and Morgan desperately wanted to try their tricks. She was less fond of the dance routine they taught her, but after a few badly timed attempts, managed to synchronize her steps, stomps and claps with the girls on either side. Shannon seemed especially impressed by how quickly Morgan caught on, singling her out twice to extend a dance move and smiled excitedly when the newcomer mimicked her beautifully.

"You have to have had some training," Sherri insisted dumbfounded, "Did your mom put you in gymnastics or dance or-" she trailed off at the dozens of eyes staring widely at her, quietly insisting she stop talking.

"My Mother passed," Morgan felt the tension rise a bit as she addressed Sherri evenly, "but no, I've never done those, I just pick up on things quick," she shrugged modestly, obviously omitting that the trait was born from unrealistic expectations harshly punished when not exceeded.

"Oh, I am so sorry to hear that, doll," Sherri's face crumpled with sympathy and Morgan internally cringed at the nickname again, "That's awful. So it's just you and your daddy?"

"Oh my God, Mom," Heather sighed exasperatedly, "Just, like, stop talking."

Morgan blushed almost the same color as Sherri, she couldn't believe the girl had just spoken to her mother like that and was astonished the woman seemed to be taking the affront compliantly.

"I live with my brothers," she told Sherri, feeling sorry for her and offering a small smile.

"They're both gorgeous!" Kelly told the group loudly and Morgan knew she was a dark shade of pink as her team giggled agreeably, even Bobby, though Travis rolled his eyes.

"Okay," Shannon gained the teams attention after a few moments, "let's get to these lifts, Morgan, you're with Bobby, Rachel and Christy, Travis, Kelly and Brittney, you've got Heather."

They grouped off and followed Shannon's instructions as the few girls not in the towers practiced their steps to the side, waiting for the mats to perform the flip routine. Soon, they'd be doing both parts together and Morgan was sure it was going to look like the videos she'd been watching. On Heather's second toss, she twisted around in the air before landing as usual on her back in her teammates' cradled arms. Morgan turned with a sly smile to Bobby and he grinned encouragingly, whispering to the others that their flyer was going to try her first midair turn and on the next toss twisted herself around, unable to hold back a whooping sound and smiled up at Bobby on her landing.

"Oh my God, you're amazing," he giggled, pulling her into a quick hug and spinning her around, "And you're so tiny! What are you, like seven pounds?"

"Shannon you're so right!" Sherri clapped her hands, "It's like she's been getting tossed her entire life!"

Morgan smirked at the comment, taking a strange, dark humored pleasure in the preciseness of the woman's assumption.

When cheerleading practice ended, she changed with the other girls in the locker room, it was much louder than changing for gym class despite having a little more than half the amount of girls. Shannon and Heather told her to follow them to Sherri's car on their way out so she could get her uniform, her empty stomach sank a little in anticipation. Morgan knew what to expect, she hadn't seen a cheerleading uniform yet that wasn't much shorter than anything she'd ever worn or planned on wearing, but the sport itself seemed enjoyable enough so far to attempt the outfit.

Sherri drove a large black SUV with chrome handles and sports stickers on the back window, as they approached, she hit a button on her keys and the hatch opened. This only seemed to surprise Morgan. The woman rummaged through a large, blue bin in the cargo area full of tops and bottoms of cheerleading uniforms.

"Here we go," Sherri handed a blue pleated skirt to Morgan, continuing to rummage through the mess of blue and yellow uniforms, checking sizes as she went.

"Ma'am, I'm sorry, Sherri," Morgan stammered a little at the skirt in her hand, glancing apologetically at the middle-aged woman, "this is an extra small, m'just a small."

She didn't appreciate the condescending grins, Shannon, Heather and her Mom gave her before Sherri shook her head and explained, taking the skirt from Morgan and holding it to her slight waist, "You want these to fit well, a little tight even is better than too big, try it and if it doesn't fit tell Shannon or Heather tomorrow."

"But if it does," Heather smiled, "you better wear it."

"Yeah," Shannon nodded at Morgan's wide-eyed concern, "we all wear our uniforms on Fridays and the football team wears their jerseys, it's like a thing."

"Okay," Morgan found the word falling out of her mouth again as she took the blue and yellow top offered by Sherri.

"You need white tennis shoes," Heather's Mom informed her, "Like what they have."

"Ooh, let's go shopping!" Heather clapped her hands together and bounced a little on her toes.

"I have to pick up your brother from hockey," Sherri told her.

"Shit," Heather sighed, no one saw Morgan's eyes nearly pop out of her head, "Can you drive me home?"

"Yeah, I guess," Shannon shrugged and looked at Morgan, "You in?"

"Yeah, I, uh, I gotta call and let my brothers know," she nodded unconvincingly, pulling her phone from her pocket, seeing a missed text from Sam a half an hour prior- 'Hope you're having a great time' and couldn't help a beaming smile at the message, pressing the call button on his profile while taking a few steps away from the others.

"Hey, Sweetie," he answered quickly, "How was school?"

"Hey Sam," he sweetened her voice a little, "it was good, cheerleading was great."

"Awesome, can't wait to hear about it," she could hear his smile, "so we're thinkin' about dinner soon, got any ideas?"

"Not really," the reminder of missing lunch suddenly helped as she tried to sound slightly whinier since she didn't have the benefit of eye contact, "but, uh, some'a the girls wanted to, well I got my uniform, but I need white shoes, they thought maybe we could, and I thought, but I knew I had to ask, so can I?"

"Can you what?" Sam chuckled.

"Can I go with Shannon and Heather to get shoes for cheerleading?" she asked hopefully.

"How long y'gonna be?" he asked.

"I don'know," she admitted, pulling the phone down and turning to the girls as they said good-bye to Sherri, she waved happily at Morgan before closing her tailgate with a button, "How long will we be?"

"Maybe an hour," Shannon shrugged, "I have homework."

Morgan nodded in agreement, as her stomach was uncomfortably empty, and returned to the phone, "Maybe an hour."

"It's four fifteen now," Sam stated, "be home by six, there's a hundred in the first aid kit in the glove compartment. Do not use the emergency credit card on shoes."

"I won't I promise, thank you, Sam," Morgan said enthusiastically.

"Six o'clock, Morgan," he repeated.

"Yes, sir," she whispered with a smile, "I love you."

"I love you too, kid, have fun 'n drive safe, I'll see you when y'get home," Sam told her and they hung up, Morgan happily congratulated herself on knowing which brother to call for permission.


	9. Chapter 9

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Contains the spanking of a minor

Morgan followed Shannon's little blue car to the same shoe store she and Sam had gone to, there weren't many shopping options in the town. She looked for Bryan's Buick as they drove passed the pancake house and parked in front of the strip mall. Before getting out of the Mustang, she popped open the glove compartment and the first aid kit, grabbing the large bill and snapping the little black door shut.

"I love your car," Heather told her as she locked the black coupe, "it's just so badass."

"Thanks," Morgan smiled, "it's my brother's."

Shannon led them into the store and directly to the athletic shoes, seeming to know exactly where she was going and quickly found a few pairs of flat bottomed, white cheerleading shoes.

"What size are you?" she asked and Morgan glanced at the metal contraption sitting nearby.

"Seven," she smiled at the recent memory of Sam in the same isle when he explained how shoes were supposed to fit and took the box from Shannon.

Sitting on the bench behind them, Morgan undid her boot laces and slipped the white sneakers on, nodding that they indeed fit.

"Do you like those?" Shannon asked.

"Yeah," Morgan shrugged, they fit the requirements and her feet. What wasn't there to like?

"Wow," Heather giggled, "you're easy," suddenly brightening with an idea at them, "Let's get coffee."

"Sure," Shannon agreed, "I gotta be home by six."

"Me too," Morgan nodded.

They grabbed a few pairs of short yellow and blue socks, the store seemed to keep a stock in just for the high school, Morgan shoved the change in her pocket with a silent reminder to put if back in the first aid kit, and the girls left the store. Deciding the pancake house was convenient and had the best coffee, they left their cars to walk across the short lot after Morgan tossed the bag in the trunk. Even though his car was nowhere to be seen, she hoped Bryan was working, thinking of him in his dark uniform.

He didn't seem to be anywhere inside the restaurant as the girls followed the hostess to a booth in the corner. Morgan flipped over her coffee mug, unsure why neither of them did the same, they were there to get coffee. A pudgy middle aged woman welcomed them a few minutes later and asked what they'd be having, completely unsurprised by a group of teenagers having only drinks.

"I'll have the white-chocolate mocha latte, skim milk please," Heather told the waitress, pushing the unnecessary menu to the edge of the table.

"Caramel macchiato, please, skim as well," Shannon stacked her unopened menu on Heather's and the waitress looked at Morgan.

"Just, uh, coffee, please, black," she requested and the waitress looked a little surprised before nodding and leaving for the kitchen.

"Black coffee?" Heather almost laughed, "Ugh, my Dad drinks that."

"Just how I've always drank it," Morgan smirked.

She was halfway through her first cup by the time Heather and Shannon's fancy concoctions arrived, both insisting Morgan try them, but after a small sip of the caramel macchiato, she grimaced and shook her head at the other.

"That's really sweet," she chuckled, sipping her hot, black coffee to relieve her mouth of the taste.

The three of them laughed and talked for a while, they asked Morgan a bit about her past, but after several vague answers decided to focus on the present. They were more excited about her impending date to homecoming than she was, and though Morgan tried to feign enthusiasm for the night, her stomach twisted when Patrick's name came up. Heather was obviously a fan of the football player and Shannon seemed if anything positively indifferent towards him.

"So, have you figured out if you're coming over before the dance?" Heather asked Shannon accusingly.

"I think so," she shrugged, "she hasn't said no."

"Her Mom's crazy," Heather informed Morgan.

"So crazy," Shannon rolled her eyes, "there was a party like a month ago and I came home like twenty minutes late and I've been on lock down since then, seriously, six o'clock curfew on weekdays and frickin' nine on weekends?! But I keep reminding her about the dance and she hasn't said anything against it."

Morgan mimicked Heather's approving nod, though she thought they were both ridiculous for calling that reaction crazy and checked the time on her phone. Twenty-five to six.

"I gotta go," Morgan stood, feeling her heart quicken, and tossed a few dollars on the table how she'd seen her brothers do when they needed to leave before the check came.

"You live far?" Heather asked.

"Outside'a town," she told them vaguely, "I had a lot of fun, thanks, but, uh, I can't be late."

"I understand," Shannon rolled her eyes in solidarity and Morgan hurried out the front doors.

Seventeen minutes to six as she hit the open country road out of town, pushing the accelerator as the speed limit increased. The bunker was about ten minutes away, but she'd rather be a few minutes early than exactly on time and depressed her foot a little more. The sun was setting behind her, but blue and bright red were not typically part of the process and Morgan glanced quizzically in the rearview mirror.

"Fuck," she breathed as her stomach dropped and she slowed the car from sixty-seven to a dead stop on the side of the road. Fifteen minutes to six, "I'm so dead."

A heavy set man pulled himself out of the squad car, hiking the front of his pants up before waddling to the front window, "Goin' a little fast there."

"Yes, sir, I'm v-very sorry," Morgan stammered, feeling her throat tightening with the threat of tears.

"Where y'off to in such a hurry?" he asked.

"Home," she squeaked at him, "I'm n-not s'posed to be late."

"Is this your car?" he tapped on the roof of the Mustang with a meaty finger.

"It's my brothers," she shook her head as a few tears fell, "He's gonna kill me."

The officer chuckled a little with sympathy, "Now we don't want that, let me see your license and registration, we'll get'cha back on the road."

Morgan handed him the precious card and the registration Sam had showed her in the glove compartment, glancing at the time on her phone as he walked back to his patrol car. Thirteen minutes to six and a text from Sam- 'I hope you're on your way home', her stomach twisted as a few more tears fell. Eleven minutes to six, the office was still sitting in his car, Morgan bounced nervously on the driver's seat staring in the side mirror. Eight minutes to six, a sob escaped in her acceptance that she was going to be late and in far more trouble than that when she got home. Seven minutes to six, he opened his driver's door and waddled back to the Mustang, handing her the registration, license and a small yellow paper.

"Alright Miss Winchester," he smiled, "You just got your license so don't be makin' a habit of speedin', I'm gonna let'cha go with a warning this time, but watch that right pedal, young lady."

"Yes, sir," she sighed with relief, "thank you!"

"Drive safe, get home," he told her, knocking on the Mustang and leaving for his car, she shoved the warning ticket into her jeans pocket next to the change from the hundred.

Morgan couldn't believe her luck, but she was still late, and went exactly the speed limit the entire way back to the bunker. Her stomach dropped when she saw Sam's outline in the light of the open garage doors, arms crossed, head lowered, clearly unhappy as he checked his watch while she parked next to the Impala.

"I'm sorry," she said immediately upon stepping out of the car.

"Six fifteen is not six, Morgan," Sam growled.

"I know," she looked sadly up at him, nodding slowly in agreement, "I'm really sorry, we just lost track'a time."

"You asked for an hour, I give you almost two and you still manage to lose track'a time?" Sam asked incredulously, "Morgan I've got Dean up my ass 'cause he doesn't think you listen to me and this isn't exactly helpin' my case."

She looked at her boots, glancing apologetically up before averting her eyes again, Sam's disappointed face was equally, if not more, effective than Dean's angry expression.

"I'm really sorry," she promised, unable to think of anything else to say.

"I'm takin' you to school tomorrow," he told her, raising an eyebrow at the wide-eyed pleading look she gave him, "or Dean can. Listen 'n get home on time, we won't have this problem again."

"Yes, sir," she nodded, reminding herself she could be in far more trouble.

Sam helped Morgan carry her stuff to her room before they joined Dean in the kitchen, apparently, they'd decided on a couple frozen pizzas for dinner and the oldest was just taking them out of the oven.

"What time were you s'posed to be home, Morgan?" Dean asked in his hard, low tone.

"Six," she mumbled.

"I handled it," Sam growled at their brother.

"How's that?" Dean challenged.

"One of us is takin' her t'school tomorrow," Sam told him and Dean rolled his eyes.

"Goody," he smirked, Morgan couldn't meet his eyes, Dean raised his voice and called down the hall, "Claire, pizza!"

Morgan dug in as soon as Dean set the plates out, ravishing through two pieces before Claire had even walked in the kitchen. It wasn't unusual in her past to skip several meals, often days, but she'd quickly adapted to hearty, properly spaced meals and snacks whenever she wanted them, so the single missed lunch had had much more effect than if would have before.

"Hungry?" Dean joked when she finally took a breath.

"You still got lunch money right?" Sam chuckled.

"Oh yeah," Morgan nodded, considering how inexpensive food was at the school, the twenty dollars Sam had given her on the first day was more than enough for a week.

"Did you put the change for those shoes back in the first aid kit?" he asked.

"I forgot," she told him, absently pulling the change from her pocket and handing it across the table to him as a crumpled yellow paper fluttered to a stop between her and her brothers and the remainder of pepperoni pizza.

Morgan's eyes flew wide as she went to grab the incriminating evidence, but Dean was faster, snatching it a moment before her and unfolding the yellow ticket. Her stomach dropped and while she kept her eyes locked on her twisting fingers, there was no mistaking the heat she felt as anything but Dean's fiery glare. Sam took the ticket from Dean and a low growl emanated from the back of his throat.

"Lost track'a time, huh?" he bit out through gritted teeth.

"We did," she insisted, "I was hurrying to get home-"

"Go to y'r'room," Sam was forcing his voice to be calm, despite the little shake she could hear.

"Sam, I-" she tried, but the look he gave her sent chills down her back and she instantly shut her mouth.

Without another word of protest, Morgan slid from her chair and hurried from the kitchen, closing her door quietly. She had screwed up, she knew it, but had almost gotten away with it, if she just hadn't forgotten to put the money back in the first aid kit and then forgotten she'd shoved the parking ticket in her pocket. For as smart as everyone always told her she way, Morgan sure felt like an idiot at that moment, waiting on her bed for the unknown punishment that awaited. Sam was in charge of the car, they'd made that perfectly clear, and was thankful that Dean would be taking a step back, he'd have already had her over his knee, but Sam had never spanked her. He wouldn't start now. Would he?

For a while, she sat in her room, waiting for Sam, but after half an hour tried to focus on some of her homework. An hour later, a knock sounded on her door, followed by Sam's entrance. He was much calmer, no longer upset, but still unhappy as he shut the door and Morgan set her book down in front of her on the bed.

"I'm really surprised," he told her, lowering his gaze, "and extremely disappointed, Morgan," his words made her throat tighten again, "You know the rules, you know what you're not supposed to do with my car and you disregarded all of it today."

"I'm sorry," she muttered pitiably.

"If y'r'not y'r'gonna be," Sam promised and Morgan's stomach turned as he flipped her desk chair into the middle of the room and sat down, "C'mere."

"Sam?" she breathed warily, not moving from the bed.

"Morgan, now," he hardened his voice and probably his resolve at the young girl, beckoning her towards him with a large hand.

She slid off her bed and approached him, with him sitting in the chair they were almost exactly eye level, though Morgan kept hers fixed on her feet until she felt him tug her chin up with a gentle finger.

"Why do we have rules?" he asked and she wanted to squirm away from the humiliating questioning.

"To keep me safe," she muttered.

"What happens when you break the rules?" his question tightened her throat more, hating the embarrassing words.

"I get spanked," she whispered, biting back a sob.

"How many rules did you break?" Sam asked unrelentingly.

"Two," Morgan thought, knowing she'd have to explain them, she continued, "I d-disobeyed you on cur-few 'n w-was speeding in y-our car."

"Three," Sam informed her and at her head inclined confusion elaborated, "Were you gonna tell me about that warning ticket if it hadn't fallen out?"

She shrugged, but couldn't help a sob, a clear indication she'd had no intentions of revealing that information if she could've helped it.

"That's as good as lyin' 'n you know it, little girl, the cop may've gone easy on you, but I'm not gonna," he said sternly and more tears fell as she nodded in agreeance, "So, do you deserve a spanking?" she hated the question, knowing the answer was yes and despising she had to accept it openly, Morgan nodded at him as another sob escaped and she saw a quick break in Sam's hardened expression for a brief moment, "Ok, jeans down."

Another loud sob broke passed her lips as she unbuttoned her pants and slid them to her knees. Sam wasted no time and quickly pulled her across his knee, securing the small girl in place against his large frame. Morgan noticed the extra couple inches in height meant that over Sam's knee her toes didn't even graze the ground and she felt especially small and vulnerable, sniffling in wait for him to begin.

"You have to listen to me same as you listen to Dean," he scolded, "I want you to be happy, but I'm not lettin' you take advantage the way you have been and tonight was a clear sign I've let it get too far."

With that he brought his large hand down with a crack and Morgan gasped at the sudden connection. His hand was only slightly smaller than her entire bottom, but he didn't spank as hard as Dean. He brought his hand down again, with a little more sting, and she realized her initial assumption was wrong. This was John Winchester's second born son, who endured equally as many butt warmings by their father as the oldest, and his tempo and force quickly resembled Dean's. Morgan squirmed, but his arm wrapped around her waist kept her firmly in place as he continued bringing his hand down on her panty clad backside with precise determination.

"Pleeeaaaase!" she cried from his disappointment and the pain growing in her bottom with every hard swat, gripping his calf tightly, Morgan sobbed as his pace quickened, "I'm sor-rrrry!"

After a few more sharp swats, his hand stilled, but he didn't release his arm from around her and Morgan felt him slide her underwear to meet her jeans.

"No, no, no, please, Sam, please don't," she begged, trying to turn enough to look at him with tear soaked, pleading eyes, but his hand cracked down again and Morgan cried out from the unprotected assault.

"Driving is a privilege, Morgan," he scolded as he slowed his tempo, but not the strength, on her bare bottom, "one you've lost for the time being and y'r'gonna hafta earn back my trust before I hand you those keys again. Do you understand?"

"Y-yes, s-s-sir," she whimpered and felt Sam adjust her a bit, holding a little tighter before bringing his hand down on the sensitive area where her thighs began, peppering hard swats from one side to the other, "NO! Saaa-aaaaammm p-plEASE!" her voice broke in a begging screech and she stopped fighting, sobbing limply over his lap, accepting she earned every swat and hoped she could earn back his trust.

"I'm sor-ry," she whimpered, hardly noticing his hand had stopped and carefully slid her underwear back over her bottom, Morgan wiped tears off her cheeks and nose as Sam lifted her to her feet.

He looked sadly content, no longer upset, but she needed to know he wasn't mad at her anymore.

"I'm so sorry, Sam," she sniffled, wanting to rub her flaming backside, but knew it wouldn't help.

"I know, Sweetie," he nodded, "it's over."

The words were all she needed to let out another sob and throw her arms around his neck, Sam seemed surprised, but pulled her on to his lap, spreading his knees to let her punished behind cradle between them and held her tightly. She cried into his flannel, repeating her apologies and promising to do better as Sam stroked her dark hair and assured her he believed her and didn't love her any less.

"I'm really sorry," Morgan repeated, lifting her head from his chest, sniffling as the last few tears fell from her eyes.

"I bet," he smiled slightly, wiping her cheeks with his thumb, "an' y'r'gonna be better about listenin' t'me, right?" she nodded meekly at him, "I'm just as much in charge'a you as Dean 'n I'm gonna step up on that more. I love you kid, 'n there's nothin' that makes me happier than seein' you smile, but if it means keepin' you safe, I'm gonna be a hardass when I need to. Got me?"

"Yes, sir," she nodded again, "I love you too."

Sam smiled at her words as she gingerly got off his lap and stood to his full height, planting a quick kiss on her head, "Finish y'r'homework. Dean'll be in in a bit," Morgan's eyes widened with fear at him and he shook his head, "I got the pleasure of handin' that one out, but don't think y'r'gonna get away from one'a his famous lectures."

Morgan sighed, not looking forward to the longwinded, one-sided conversation impending, but appreciated her sore backside wasn't due for another round with their oldest brother. Sam left, closing her door quietly on his exit and Morgan kicked her jeans the rest of the way off before dragging the chair in front of the sink to assess the damage. She carefully climbed onto the seat, gripping the backrest and eased her underwear halfway down her thighs, peering over her shoulder at the dark pink blotch of skin covering her behind and the very tops of her thighs. Sam had certainly been as thorough as Dean and Morgan felt heat radiating from several inches away before rubbing her sore bottom.

After carefully pulling on a pair of loose sweatpants, she crawled onto her bed on her stomach and pulled her history book close to continue reading. It was hard to concentrate as her backside throbbed and Morgan thought about how terrible sitting at school the next day would be on the wooden desk chairs. A hard rap on her door tore her attention from the book she wasn't reading as Dean walked in the room.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So what do you think of Sam being the hardass?


	10. Chapter 10

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Morgan overhears her brothers discuss how they feel about punishing her. See if you can spot the plot tease... this story actually has one I swear!

"Made some bad decisions today, kid," Dean crossed his arms, leveling her with his characteristic raised eyebrow expression, "I hope you know you deserved that."

"Yes, sir," she muttered, looking up at him from her facedown position on her bed.

"I don't know what's gotten into you lately," he began, leaning against her dresser, "you've had an attitude 'n pushin' boundaries 'n we're not puttin' up with it anymore. Sam gives you everything you want, lets you use his car and in less than a week y'r'breakin' the rules. That's a hell of a way to thank him," Morgan felt fresh tears stinging her eyes as she nodded in acceptance at Dean's reproving words, "You're not drivin' until further notice, in fact, for the next week, just expect that you're not allowed anywhere besides school and home. Understood?"

"Yes, sir," she bit out through tears.

"And I'm gonna be on this attitude like you wouldn't believe, Morgan," he warned, "You talk back, so help me if you yell at anyone of us, I'm not even gonna drag y'r'ass in here before I start wailin' on it. Got me?"

"Yes, sir," she mumbled, feeling firmly chastised and hoped he would leave soon.

"Why is it important not to speed?" he asked and she internally grimaced at the condescending question.

"Because it increases the chances of gettin' in an accident," Morgan responded with the same words she'd been repeatedly reminded of over the last week.

"So, you do know," he scoffed, "wanna tell me what you were thinkin' then?"

"I didn't wanna be in trouble f'r'bein' late," she mumbled, unable to look at him as she spoke.

"Well," Dean shrugged, "instead'a gettin' in a little trouble f'r'bein' a few minutes late, you ended up gettin' pulled over 'n then tried to lie about it-"

"I didn't-" she tried to protest, but Dean put his hand up with a hard scowl.

"Don't, Morgan, stop," he warned, "not tellin' us about somethin' like that is a lie, I don't care how you wanna try 'n spin it, you know what it is. Don'cha?"

"Yes, sir," she agreed quietly.

"You're in here for the rest of the night," he informed her.

"Can I," she stammered at his hard scowl, "I have to, go to the," she trailed off as his expression became understanding and he nodded, jerking his head at the door.

"Now," he told her and she gingerly got off the bed, "Is y'r'homework done?" she nodded at him, "Right t'bed then, little girl."

"Yes, sir," she said sadly, leaving the room at his gesture and heading towards the bathroom down the hall.

Morgan's bottom ached and now Dean's words were mixing with Sam's as she continued to think of the punishment and scolding she'd earned. Sam had never spanked her before and it wasn't anything she wanted him to do again, but fully accepted he'd had every right to do it after the warnings she'd been given in regards to his Mustang. Suddenly, her lenient, perpetually understanding brother wasn't such a softy anymore.

She quietly left the bathroom, hoping her brothers wouldn't be averse to an apologetic, good night hug before she spent the rest of the evening in her bedroom, and walked towards the kitchen, hearing their low voices.

"Yeah, it's not fun," she heard Dean scoff just before the kitchen entrance, instinctually pausing to listen a moment.

"Dude," Sam groaned, "I thought I was gonna lose it, that was, awful."

Dean sighed understandingly, "The worst is when she says your name and that little-"

"Oh God, that break in her voice," Sam interjected, "I swear I almost stopped."

"Yeah, can't do that," Dean told him knowledgably, "but you did good, Sam, she needed it and she knows that."

"Didn't feel good," Sam mumbled.

"She didn't seem upset when I went in there," Dean assured him.

"She hugged me afterwards," Sam sounded confused.

"She needed t'know you weren't mad at her anymore," Dean told him and Morgan was surprised at his insight, "Don'cha remember after Dad would whoop y'r'ass, wantin' to know it was just, over?"

"Yeah, I guess," Sam agreed, "I felt so terrible, man, I just never wanna do that again."

"Yeah," Dean sighed, "prob'ly gonna have to though. Hey, man, m'just sayin', she didn't earn the name Brat f'r'nothin' and I have a feeling this school adventure is gonna make shit around here worse before it gets better," Morgan's shoulders sagged in defeat at his statement.

"I think y'r'wrong," Sam told him, "I think she needs a little time to find her group 'n let the attention wear off from bein' the new kid, shit'll settle down 'n she'll settle down with it."

"Hope y'r'right," Dean scoffed, "y'r'not the only one who'd love to never tan that kid's ass again."

"Least you came with some experience," Sam almost chuckled, "I've only ever been on the other side 'n this was surprisingly worse. I know you know what y'r'talkin' about, but, man, I fuckin' hated when Dad would take my shorts down, Dean I almost didn't do it."

"Got to," Dean sighed, "if y'can't see what y'r'doin' there's a good chance you'll cause more injury than y'meant. Trust me, I'm not a fan, but she's not a little kid gettin' swatted f'r'doin' somethin' small, speeding when she was explicitly told not to multiple times or y'know rushing into a warehouse to take on Lucifer, well that's shit that deserves an extra kick. If Dad saw that ticket he'd still be in there."

"She'd never drive again," Sam laughed.

"Drive?" Dean chuckled, "Lucky if she'd see the sun before Christmas."

"Yeah," Sam's amusement subsided, "I wonder though, with everything she went through, the abuse from her Mother. Do you think, she thinks, y'know, like, it's the same?"

Morgan's stomach dropped, she wanted to assure Sam she didn't feel that way at all, but stayed rooted to her spot in the hallway out of sight. Her Mother had lashed out randomly, often when the little girl was asleep, not that she'd been any more defenseless unconscious than she was getting slapped around awake. Sam and Dean protected her, they loved her, even when they'd punished her, Morgan felt safe.

"I don't," Dean told him confidently, "because she hugged you afterwards. 'Cause the couple times I've had to do that, 'n you have no idea what it was like at that hotel, we talked after too 'n I've seen how relieved she looks knowing it's over. Her Mother didn't have motive, those weren't punishments, that was a sick, twisted, bitch who needed power over someone. It's not the same, Sam, remember that psychic kid who killed his dad 'n uncle?"

"Max Miller," Sam recalled immediately.

"That kid was abused," Dean stated bluntly, "I think we both agreed then that dad wasn't perfect, but he never hurt us, 'n we haven't done anything different with Morgan than Dad woulda."

"But we're not Dad," Sam reminded the oldest.

"Closest thing she's got," Dean reasoned, "M'gonna finish this beer 'n say good night to her, I was a little rough earlier."

"Never mind," Sam chuckled, "definitely not our father."

"With her?" Dean challenged, "I think even Corporal Ass-Kick Winchester would'a turned into a teddy bear."

She heard Sam say something agreeably and they both laughed, but she was already making her way back to her bedroom, slipping quietly inside before either left the kitchen. Sam's concern weighed on her and Morgan considered how she could tell him Dean was right without admitting she'd been eavesdropping. Forgetting her sore behind for a moment, she plopped on her bed, inhaling sharply at the sudden reminder and standing again, before finding an only slightly more comfortable position on her stomach. A hard rap sounded on her door and a moment later both brothers walked into her room.

"A'right, kid," Dean's expression was still stern, but there was a hint of a smile on his lips, "C'mere," she slid off her bed gingerly and into his open arms, sighing into his chest at the needed forgiveness, "let's have'a better day tomorrow, okay?" she nodded into his shirt and felt him kiss the top of her head, "G'night, Brat."

"G'night, Dean," she offered a tiny smile as he left the room, leaving her and Sam alone.

"Do you want Dean to take you t'school tomorrow?" he asked and she saw the guilt in his eyes.

"Can you?" she asked and watched his expression brighten.

"Of course," he nodded, "Are we good then?"

Morgan wrapped her arms around him, "I'm sorry I screwed up, Sam, I know I deserved that 'n I promise I won't speed if you ever let me drive your car again."

He chuckled lightly, holding her tight and added his own quick peck where Dean had, "I believe that, Sweetie, I'm glad y'r'safe 'n we're gonna move on now. Right?"

"Yes, sir," she smiled with relief at him, seeing the worry vanish from his face.

"Okay, get some sleep," releasing her from his arms, he waited for her to crawl under her blanket on her stomach before flipping off the light switch, "Sweet dreams."

"I love you, Sam," she whispered in the dark as he stepped into the hall.

"I love you too, Morgan," and he shut the door, leaving her room in darkness.

In the morning, Morgan showered and in the empty shower room rechecked the status of her behind, happily noting a light pink hue, but most of the color had faded thankfully, she'd been concerned about the short skirt she'd been told she had to wear, if it fit. The outfit laid on her bed intimidatingly as she brushed out her hair and heard her brothers' heavy steps in the hallway. The tiny yellow shorts in a plastic bag Sherri had given looked impossibly small, but Morgan was surprised at how much they stretched after pulling them over her underwear. Taking a deep breath, she braved the skirt and found it did fit, it was tighter than she normally preferred her clothes, but it wasn't uncomfortable, other than her nerves at seeing her slender, pale legs much barer than ever before, but thankfully scar free. Slipping the blue and yellow top over her head, Morgan turned in her mirror, liking the concealing top much better than the skirt. Shannon and Heather had told her at the shoe store they were both wearing blue socks with their uniforms to school so Morgan pulled a short pair of blue socks on before taking the new, bright white shoes out of the box. Wishing she had a full-length mirror, she pulled the desk chair a little away from the sink to stand on it and see as much of her outfit as she could. The skirt matched where her fingertips stopped halfway down her thighs, it was without question the most leg she'd ever shown and took another deep breath before leaving her room for the kitchen.

Sam and Dean were both leaning against the counters, sipping coffee when she walked through the kitchen entrance, their conversation stopped immediately. Morgan's stomach twisted as they stared wide-eyed at her, mugs paused at their lips.

"Mornin'," she mumbled, breaking the silence and dropping her bag next to the coffee station before grabbing the fresh pot.

"What are you wearing?" Dean sputtered finally, shaking his head in disbelief.

"Pretty sure y'r'familiar with that outfit," Sam scoffed and Morgan saw Dean shoot him a scowl, but the younger brother brushed it off, "You look really cute, Morgan."

"Thanks," she beamed at his compliment, feeling a bit less self-conscious.

"There's no pant option?" Dean asked and both his siblings offered the same unamused smirk, "Or a longer skirt, I heard Amish style's really in this year," she giggled realizing he was partly joking, "You do look cute, kid, too cute."

"Oh my God," Claire laughed as she joined them in the kitchen.

"Claire," Sam and Dean growled in the same warning tone.

"The skirts really short," Morgan grimaced a little at her friend, tugging at the hem.

"You got the legs for it," the blonde gave her an encouraging, sultry smile.

"Hey," Dean said sharply, "let's stop talkin' about the outfit okay?"

Morgan and Claire rolled their eyes at each other with a giggling grin, but sipped their coffees while Sam put the boring flakes and a carton of milk on the table. She wanted to argue with him for the sugary cereal, but before the words passed her lips a light tingle in her bottom reminded her it was not in her best interest to start any conflicts at the moment. She felt a twinge of jealousy, however, when Dean sat next to her and poured himself a large bowl of colorful puffs as she munched through the light brown corn flakes.

"You takin' her t'school?" Dean asked after a hard swallow and Sam nodded, having just shoved a large spoonful in his mouth, "I'll pick y'up. What time's practice over?"

"Like four," Morgan shrugged, trying to avoid thinking of the embarrassment it would cause her to be driving herself one day and suddenly in the drop off zone the next.

She and Sam headed to the garage shortly after breakfast and without bother to ask, Morgan hopped into the Impala while Sam opened the heavy wooden doors. It wasn't as if they had a vehicle that didn't get attention and at least if he wasn't driving the Mustang she could claim it need a repair or something. Morgan considered the most reasonable excuse, if anyone asked, as Sam took the usual turns out of the tunnel and into the fresh morning sun.

"So," Sam began, breaking the silence between them and tearing her attention from the strand of explanations, "homecoming's next week right?" her stomach turned, but she tried not to let her face show her anxiety, "Giant yellow banner, right when y'walk in, ringin' a bell?"

"Yeah," she shook her head and nodded quickly, "yeah, it's next week."

"That's usually a big deal for cheerleaders," he told her, "pep rallies and half time."

"Half time?" she inclined her head at him.

"In between the first and second part of the football game," he explained, "I haven't exactly been to a lot of them, but a few, 'n usually the band'll do somethin' 'n the cheerleaders'll go out 'n do, whatever it is you call that."

"A routine," she informed him with a small grin.

"That," he nodded, "How's that, uh, goin'?"

"It's okay," Morgan shrugged, "the steps were a little hard at first, but the toss is a lotta fun."

"Good," he nodded again, "I'm sure y'r'doin' great. So, y'r'gonna need to go to that game next weekend?"

"Um," she glanced at him tentatively, "yeah, I think so, I mean, I know, yes I really do."

Sam chuckled as she finished stammering, "Well, look," he smirked, "as long as you behave y'rself I don't see why not."

"What about Dean?" she asked nervously.

"I'll talk t'Dean," he assured her with a small grin she couldn't help but return.

The Impala grumbled through the lot to the front of the school, but Sam pulled a bit further from the main entrance and stopped away from the heavier trafficked area, whether he did it on purpose or not, Morgan appreciated it. Staring down at her bare knees, she tugged again at the hem of her skirt.

"You look great, Sweetie," Sam assured her softly, with an unsure smile she nodded and pushed open the passenger door, "Have a great day."

"Thanks, Sam," she dragged her bag off the seat and slipped it on her shoulders while she shut the door and the Impala growled as Sam left the parking lot.

With another deep breath, feeling the cool breeze on her naked legs, Morgan joined the crowd of students walking into the school. Shannon waved at her from the top of the steps and Kelly turned with a flourish of blonde curls, both gaped at Morgan.

"Oh my God!" Kelly exclaimed, very differently from how Claire had earlier.

"You look adorable!" Shannon clapped her hands together, "I knew you were tiny, but wow!"

Morgan wasn't sure if it was a compliment, but she smiled weakly at their excited faces. Bryan walked up the steps alone as the girls were turning to go through the doors, but he reached them first. With a strange smirk, he averted his eyes to the ground while holding the door for all three of them.

"Thanks," Morgan tried to meet his eyes, but he simply nodded and made a low noise that he'd heard her gratitude.

"Girl," Kelly giggled as the three walked towards their first class after Bryan had disappeared down the other hall, "you like him."

"What?" Morgan asked incredulously, but felt herself flush a little.

"He's a nice guy," Shannon assured her, but Kelly scoffed loudly.

"Yeah," she laughed meanly, "such a nice guy to go around breakin' people's jaws and what-not."

Morgan's eyes got wide as she looked from Kelly's smug face to Shannon's eye roll.

"You talk like you were there, Kelly," the cheerleading captain said simply.

"Patrick told everybody what happened," the blonde assured her as if this settled the matter, Morgan's stomach twisted as she listened.

"His side," Shannon scoffed, "I'll see you guys later," and she bounced a little before turning to cross the hall as Morgan followed Kelly into Mr. Carson's English class.

She felt eyes on her as she made her way to the desk behind Andy Andersen and bit the inside of her lip a little as she sat down normally, not realizing her bottom was still a little sore, not helped by the short skirt that left almost nothing between her and the wooden chair. By the end of the class period she would've given anything to be able to inconspicuously rub her backside, but tried not to think about the discomfort as she made her way to the three hundred wing with Kelly.

"So, Bryan broke Patrick's jaw?" Morgan asked warily, though Kelly seemed more than willing to gossip about it and began immediately.

"Last year," she told her, "Patrick said he sucker punched him in the hallway, but they both got suspended."

"Did you see it?" Morgan couldn't help herself, Bryan didn't seem the type to sucker punch someone for no reason.

"No one did," Kelly shrugged, "It was just them 'n Billy until Mr. Kirk heard them and came outta his classroom."

"Billy?" Morgan furrowed her brow, "Billy the Kid?"

"Yeah," Kelly nodded, "He was pretty shaken up."

"I bet," Morgan said quietly.

Billy, better known in the school as Billy the Kid, a nickname he seemed to immensely enjoy, was maybe nineteen or so, but was part of a special program that let him stay in high school until he was twenty-one on account of his mental disability. He was sort of a celebrity among the students, everyone seemed to like him or at least laugh with him when he'd join them for lunch. Morgan had met him her second day when he'd introduced himself as the school ambassador and asked her how she'd liked it so far, never making eye contact but always smiling. She like Billy, he had an innocence Morgan was almost jealous of, she felt bad for him at first, but it only took a little bit to watch Billy and realize he was one of the happiest people she'd ever encountered. Why would Billy have been in that hallway with Bryan and Patrick when they fought?

The question was still on her mind as she walked into chemistry and saw that Bryan was already at his table, nose buried again in his text book. Morgan eyed the hard-plastic chair, reminding herself to sit gently and managed to keep her face completely still as she lowered herself onto the seat. Patrick walked in a few moments later and winked when he saw her, sitting hard in his own chair next to her.

"Well I was right," he grinned.

"About what?" she asked confused, he was never right in chemistry.

"You look so hot in that outfit," his eyebrows jumped and she felt herself flush at his brash comment.

Morgan continued to tug at the hem of her skirt through chemistry, though no amount of pulling was making it any longer. When the bell rang she tried to slip around their table and out the door before Patrick could ask her about lunch, praying it wouldn't take long to find Gina, she was very tall so Morgan was hopeful. A firm grip on her arm just as she took a few steps away from the classroom halted her progress.

"Hey, what's the rush?" Patrick scoffed.

Morgan saw Bryan scowling behind him, but soften his expression and looked away when he caught her eyes.

"I'm meetin' a friend f'r'lunch," she shrugged, harder than usual and hoped he'd take his hand off her.

"Eatin' with that burnout again?" he narrowed his eyes and Morgan mirrored his scowl.

"I don't think it's any of your business," she bit out through gritted teeth and wrenched her arm from his grasp before stalking down the hall feeling her hands shaking a little.

Thankfully, her prediction about finding Gina had been accurate and both girls waved at each other as Morgan entered the cafeteria. A few of Gina's friends looked warily at the tall girl after a quick sweep of Morgan and her outfit, but Gina brushed them off, assuring them her new friend was cool. After grabbing hot lunch together and rejoining the table Morgan was happy to enjoy a lunch she didn't feel she was being analyzed while eating. Gina's friends were all really nice once they all started talking and realized, as they put it, Morgan wasn't like the other cheerleaders. Thinking of Kelly, Christy and Heather, Morgan was starting to understand the stereotype everyone seemed to be familiar with, but she silently disagreed in regards to Shannon.

With a few minutes left of the lunch period, Morgan and Gina cleared their trays, but Sam came jogging over before they reached their table again.

"Hey, Morgan," he smiled, "you wouldn't mind helpin' me with a few problems f'r'next period would'ja?"

She looked at Gina who shrugged, "I'll see ya later."

"Thanks f'r'lunch," Morgan grinned, "Can I join you again?"

"Anytime," Gina assured her and Morgan followed Sam back to the football players' table, actively averting her eyes from Patrick.

"It's just a couple," Sam said, pulling his math book and notebook from his backpack, "I think I got it mostly."

Morgan took the seat he offered grudgingly as it was next to the large young man trying to get her to look at him, but she adamantly refused to, focusing on Sam's completed homework.

"Sam," she shrugged, "these are all right, you did fine."

"Really?" he asked with badly faked surprise, "Well I guess you're helps been helpin'."

She stared at him blankly and shook her head, moving to stand, but a hand on her arm again stopped her and she whipped her head at Patrick. He immediately removed his hand at the scowl she gave him, but offered an apologetic gaze with both palms up defensively.

"I'm sorry," he said earnestly, "I didn't mean t'piss y'off earlier, really. Okay?"

"Okay," she shrugged indignantly.

"I'd hate it if you were mad at me," he said sweetly, dipping his head at her with pitiable eyes, "Please say you forgive me."

She didn't want to, but it was hard not to smile at the sad, handsome face pleading at her and without realizing it Morgan gave him a weak grin and nodded. He instantly smiled his confident smile and then took her hand and rubbed a large thumb over her knuckles, part of her wanted to snatch her hand away from him, but her face flushed and she couldn't help but enjoy the attention a little, although she wished it was Bryan. Thankfully, the bell rang and in the chaos of students reaching for their bags, Morgan tore her hand from Patrick's and said a quick good-bye before turning quickly towards her math class.

Sam managed to catch up with her only a few moments later, "Hey, wait up."

"Did he ask you to act like you needed help?" she rounded on the quarterback and his eyebrows raised in surprise.

"No," he scoffed, but when Morgan narrowed her eyes at him he offered a conceding head nod, "I mean, look, he likes you, 'n he's my buddy so I'll help him out when he asks, but he really does like you 'n there's a lotta girls in this school who wish he'd like them," she blinked at him slowly, unsure why that bit of information had any relevance, "his ex graduated last year 'n she was kinda a bitch anyway, but he hasn't really been into anyone until you showed up," Morgan continued staring at him blankly, "but talkin' to Bryan Elkins is gonna drive him crazy," Sam chuckled knowingly.

"I'll talk to anyone I like," Morgan assured Sam and turned quickly into their classroom, wishing sadly to herself for Bryan to talk to her again.


	11. Chapter 11

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Morgan makes up her mind about Patrick and the dance

She managed to avoid Sam by sneaking out of math class with Shannon, she didn't want to hear any more about how much Patrick liked her, Morgan was trying to not even think about him. Mr. Kirk's class was a welcome distraction, especially since he apparently wore jeans on Fridays, they fit very well. As part of their Prohibition section, Mr. Kirk spent the class period discussing bootleggers, speakeasies and the people famous for bringing alcohol to the United States when it was illegal. Morgan's ears perked up when he started talking about Chicago, one of the largest centers for this type of crime, and he asked the class if anyone had ever visited the city.

"That's where Morgan's from," someone in the back piped up and Morgan could've punched him.

"Is that right?" the handsome teacher eyed the blushing girl and she nodded quickly at him, tugging again at the hem of her skirt under the desk, "Did you like the city?"

With a small smile she nodded again, she had liked the city, full of distractions from her awful life, simple to pilfer in and easy to get lost in the crowd. Her Mother had always been busy when they'd spent time in Chicago, never longer than a few days or weeks at a time and Morgan was almost entirely abandoned during those visits, much more preferable to her than having the abusive witch at home. Mr. Kirk thankfully noticed she didn't feel like elaborating and with an encouraging smile he continued his lecture.

"Hey, Gina," Morgan called to her tall friend when she saw her in the gym walking into the locker room.

"Hey, girl," she stopped at the door and waited for Morgan before entering together, "How's y'r'boyfriend?"

"Who?" she asked and Gina giggled at her.

"I'm kidding," she nudged Morgan when they approached their lockers to change, "but seriously, be careful with Patrick, okay? I'm not sayin' you can't handle y'rself," she shook her head at Morgan's frustrated smirk, "but he's, just, well, kind of a jerk."

"I'm kinda getting that," Morgan muttered, putting her white shoes in the locker, "Do you know anything about a fight between him and Bryan Elkins?"

"Everybody knows about that," Gina nodded, slipping out of her jeans, "Patrick was pickin' on Billy the Kid 'n Bryan walked in on it, he told him to lay off 'n Patrick socked him in the back'a the head as him 'n Billy were walkin' away, ended up breakin' a couple fingers before Bryan jacked him in the face 'n broke his jaw," she giggled, "his mouth was wired shut for the rest of the year."

Morgan was stunned, but this story made much more sense than the gossip she'd heard from Kelly earlier, she had to be sure, "But how do you know? I mean, someone else said Bryan sucker punched Patrick," Gina laughed meanly.

"Yeah," she scoffed, "I'm sure your new friends want you t'think that, but if anybody did the sucker punching it was Patrick. Bryan's friends with my brother, he's a good guy."

Morgan nodded her understanding and followed Gina into the gym. Her account of the fight between the two young men not only seemed plausible, it made sense. Bryan and Patrick clearly didn't like each other and over the last few days she'd watched Billy the Kid float from one table to the other in lunch, he'd never approached the football players. Patrick certainly seemed like a jerk, but to stoop so low to pick on Billy made her stomach turn as she thought about it, someone so much bigger and more powerful taking advantage of someone who couldn't defend themselves, it made her sick.

When the bell rang to release the last class of the day, Morgan hurried out of the gym with her class, assuring Shannon she'd be right back when she saw her in the hallway. She didn't know why she was looking for him or what she planned to say when she saw him, but Morgan really needed to talk to Bryan. As if her prayers were answered, he came walking down the other hall towards the front door with Franky next to him, his friend noticed the green-eyed girl trying to get his attention before Bryan did and nudged him as he walked away with a smile at Morgan. Realizing he couldn't get away without being outwardly rude, Bryan smirked at her and stepped to the side out of the heavy student traffic.

"What's up?" he muttered.

"I, uh," Morgan knew what she wanted to say, but not how to say it, so she just did, "I don't like you not talkin' to me."

He smiled and shook his head, "Yeah, well, I got enough problems with y'r'boyfriend as it is, so-"

"I don't have a boyfriend," she assured him a little bitterly.

"You're goin' t'homecoming with Patrick," he reminded her and Morgan's stomach turned at the name.

"I don't want to," she confessed quietly, surprised at herself and she tried to explain quickly, "I mean, I just didn't know what to say 'n he didn't really ask me, I just didn't know what to say and kinda said okay 'cause I was, I don't know, like, nervous."

Bryan nodded with a hard and thoughtful expression, "Sounds like him. So, what're you gonna go with him or not?"

"I don't even know if I can go," she scoffed, "but, no, after everything today I really don't want to."

"Then don't," he said simply and chuckled, "though personally it'd be fun to see him meet y'r'brothers."

Morgan giggled, nodding in agreement that that would not end well for Patrick, especially if Bryan had beaten him, not that Bryan was much smaller than her brothers or Patrick, but he didn't throw his size around like the football player.

"Morgan! We're startin'!" Bobby called from the gym door, but shot her a quick wink seeing her standing in front of the handsome young man and disappeared behind the heavy door.

"I should go," she shrugged, but didn't move, not wanting to stop talking to the handsome young man who was finally smiling at her again.

"I, uh," he rubbed the back of his neck and she saw his ears turn a little pink, "I like y'r'band t-shirts 'n combat boots, but, uh, you look really cute t'day."

"Thanks," she blushed and so did he, "See you Monday?"

"I'll say hi," he promised, watching her walk back to the gym.

"You better," she giggled and slipped into the gym after a small wave.

Morgan had a goofy smile on her face through the entire practice, which Kelly was happy to point out several times, but Morgan couldn't get Bryan off her mind or the grin off her face. Shannon was extremely happy with her progress on the midair twist and decided to add it to the routine, Heather and Sherri both thought this was a great idea since Heather had been working on hers but hadn't had a chance to show off. Sherri was wearing yoga pants again, but her shirt was much lower cut than the day before, showing off extremely tanned cleavage as she clapped and bounced on the sidelines behind Shannon. When practice ended, the team left in a group out the front door.

"Girls, you're all invited," Sherri assured them about the pre-homecoming dance meet up at Heather's house, "Bring your dresses, we'll do hair, make-up, it'll be so fun and I'll have- my God who is that?"

Sherri had stopped midway down the stairs at the slamming trunk sound Morgan was far too familiar with and the middle-aged woman stared nearly open mouthed at Dean walking back to the driver's door of the Impala. Some of her teammates joined in the gawking with their coach, but the rest just giggled and nudged Morgan as they left for their vehicles. Bobby gave her a sultry eyebrow waggle and Morgan couldn't help but laugh out loud, he was always making funny faces, but when he winked at her it didn't give her the same feeling as when other boys did it, he was just friendly.

"Morgan," Kelly and Heather rushed up on either side of her as she descended the stairs and the gossipy blonde crooned close to her ear, "introduce us to your brother."

"Uh, okay," she stammered, allowing the girls to pull her towards the Impala and managed to give Dean a wide-eyed look through the windshield he understood enough to get out of the car again.

"Hey, Sweetie," he smiled and she felt both girls squeeze her arms a little, wishing they'd let go, "Friends'a yours?"

"Yeah," she nodded, managing to shake loose of the giggling girls and gestured as she introduced them while slowly making her way next to him, "Heather, Kelly, this is my brother Dean."

"Nice to meet you girls," he nodded, still grinning at them and they responded by giggling louder at each other, Morgan rolled her eyes at Dean and saw him holding back a laugh.

"Silly girls," Sherri scoffed lightly as she walked up behind Kelly and Heather, extending her hand to Dean, "I'm Sherri Hopps, Morgan's cheerleading coach-"

"And my mother," Heather reminded with a funny scoff.

"And that," Sherri nodded with a smirk, shaking Dean's hand.

"Dean Winchester," he gave her a half smile and Morgan knew she and her brother already shared the same opinion on the cheerleading coach.

"Your sister is very talented, an absolute doll," she told him, "we're lucky t'have her."

He smiled proudly down at her matching green eyes and put an arm around her shoulders, "Us too."

Kelly, Heather and Sherri all made the same aweing sound and Morgan blushed a little, but grinned appreciatively at Dean, inconspicuously leaning into him a little.

"Will you be at the homecoming game next week for their halftime routine?" she asked with a strange smile and Morgan held her breath in anticipation of his response.

"Our brother 'n I'll prob'lly make an appearance," he grinned vaguely and Morgan smiled, silently thanking Sam for intervening.

"Ooh, another one?" she raised her eyebrows in excitement, "Older, younger, maybe a twin?"

"Holy shit, Mom," Heather scoffed meanly, "finalize the divorce first."

Morgan and Dean looked uncomfortably at each other, but Heather and her Mom seemed to be enjoying a strange inside joke as she giggled apologetically at her daughter.

"We'd love to have Morgan over for the dance too," Sherri told him and Morgan's stomach turned, unable to look up at her brother, knowing his expression was either surprised, angry or both.

"Yes!" Heather agreed, nodding eagerly at Dean, "We're all getting ready together and my Dad's gonna take us."

"Nice of him to do something," Sherri muttered, but everyone acted as if they hadn't heard.

"We'll, uh," Dean glanced down at Morgan, "we'll talk about it."

"Pretty much the whole team'll be there," Kelly told him sweetly, "it'll be just us girls."

Morgan stared wide-eyed at the blonde wishing she could punch her for lying to her brother, perhaps it was a lie she'd been considering telling, but he was her brother to fib to and it stirred a loyal bitterness to hear someone else lie to him.

"We'll talk about it," Dean repeated in a slightly lower tone and Morgan wanted to giggle at Kelly's taken back expression as she slowly nodded her understanding at him, "It was nice t'meet you all," Morgan could tell he didn't mean it and he shook Sherri's hand again.

"Don't be a stranger," she gave him a sultry smile and held his hand a bit longer than Morgan knew he appreciated.

"Yes, ma'am, c'mon, Morgan le's hit the road," he said quickly, pulling open the driver's door of the Impala and dropping behind the wheel as Sherri and the girls walked away.

Morgan couldn't help bursting into laughter when the heavy door slammed next to her, "Sherri, hates to be called ma'am."

"Yeah," Dean chuckled, backing the Impala out with a rumble, "most women who look like her do," he winked at Morgan and they both threw their heads back in amusement.

It was nice to laugh with Dean, it felt like it had been a really long time since they'd laughed together, lately it seemed they were constantly arguing or brooding about something. He looked less stressed when he laughed and Morgan realized how much she missed seeing him like that as their amusement subsided.

"Hell of a pair those two make," he commented, rolling his eyes.

"I can't believe how she talks t'her Mom," Morgan told him with wide-eyes.

"Yeah," he scoffed, "Dad would'a belted anyone'a us right there before we could blink."

Morgan giggled a little thinking of Dean mouthing off in a school parking lot to John Winchester, from the pictures she'd seen and after pouring through his journal a few times she felt like she almost knew him, and agreed with Dean that he would not have taken kindly to any mouthing off. Silently admitting to herself that Dean would also not have allowed that kind of language to be used at him and not that she ever would after the soap incident, but if she'd said what Heather said there was little doubt in her mind she'd be in for another trip across his knee in the backseat whether her friends were there or not.

"So homecoming?" he smirked and she grinned nervously at him, "Sam 'n I agreed if y'keep y'r'nose clean this week you're only grounded a week, so you'll make y'r'game next Friday."

"Thank you, Dean!" she bounced happily on her seat, but stopped when she felt the uncomfortable tingle in her bottom.

"An' the dance is Saturday?" he asked and his tone gave Morgan a hopeful feeling, mixed with guilt at Kelly's lie, she nodded timidly at him, "How many girls are going?"

"Most of the team, prob'lly eight 'r ten," she shrugged.

"Mr. Hopps better have a bus," Dean scoffed, "You wanna go?"

The question was overwhelming. Of course, she wanted to go, she just didn't want to go with Patrick, but that wasn't what Dean was asking. Maybe she could go to Heather's with the girls and just avoid the football player the whole night, even though they were meeting the boys before the dance and Patrick had an uncanny ability of finding her, it could work.

"Yeah," she nodded, "I kinda do."

"Yeah," he sighed almost remorsefully, "I get it," she couldn't believe her ears, Dean was being uncharacteristically understanding, "It's just a bunch'a girls?" she nodded at him, her stomach twisting at the lie, "I don't see why not, but y'better behave y'rself 'n I'll take you to Heather's 'n pick y'up at the dance."

She smiled widely, not only could she go to the dance, but she had a readymade excuse for avoiding Patrick's party, Morgan couldn't believe it and asked for confirmation in an excited, hushed tone, "Really?"

He chuckled lightly, "Well I'd hate to not see Sherri again," and they both laughed again as the Impala growled passed the abandoned warehouse.

Sam, Claire and Castiel were in the library when they walked in the open room, Morgan ascended the stairs and gave Sam a quick hug, shooting Claire an 'I have news' look over the shoulder, which the blonde immediately gave a short nod of understanding.

"Morgan," Castiel began, "I understand if you have other work to attend, but we could use a little help deciphering this spell if you have a minute?"

Every word after 'deciphering this spell' was unnecessary, as Morgan had already scooped the book he was pointing at off the table and immersed herself in the old familiarity of magic. A pang of sadness hit the back of her throat, but she swallowed hard, sometimes she still missed her power even if losing it had been a bit of a relief. The spell was complex, dark, something she wouldn't have been surprised to find in the Book of the Damned, slowly raising her eyes to Castiel and then to Sam.

"Why?" she asked simply and saw Sam smirk uncomfortably.

"We're hearing rumors of a vampire uprising in the South," Castiel told her and Sam closed his eyes for a moment with frustration all over his face.

"So you found a blood poisoning spell?" she asked quietly, "This will kill every vampire within five miles."

"Awesome," Claire and Dean scoffed together.

"But," Morgan looked earnestly at Sam, "aren't there vampires who are like, normal? You said you've met them, they drink animal blood or steal from blood banks."

"So normal," Claire commented.

"If it's the best you can do," Morgan shot back bitterly.

"We're not plannin' on usin' it to wipe out all vampires," Sam assured her, "but if a war starts it's gonna be a great weapon to have on our side, 'n I doubt any of those 'normal' vampires will be joining that army."

Morgan nodded at him, unable to find a problem with his argument and returned her attention to the spell. It required things she was sure only Crowley and Castiel would be able to get, like the roots of a Tree of Heaven, freshly harvested fangs of a fruit bat and scales of an unborn Salmonidae, the rest seemed fairly simply and typical of most spells, there were only a few things that inspired magic from other ingredients.

"Can you work it?" Sam asked and quickly corrected himself, "Or show us how to?"

"Sure," she shrugged agreeably, "But, it's in Orkney, the dialect is, funny, an' I bet this has to be really specific to work."

"Can you speak Oinky?" Dean asked.

"No," she smirked at him, "but I can speak Orkney."

"Y'think you could do this if we needed y'r'help?" Sam asked.

"Of course," she nodded without giving it any thought, she would always help her brothers and was a bit eager at the idea of doing magic again even if it wasn't coursing through her veins.

"That's only one problem solved," Castiel said pointedly.

"That's how y'eat an elephant Cas," Dean sat in the arm chair and poured himself a couple fingers of scotch, "one bite at a time."

"Why would I eat an elephant?" the angel inclined his head, eyebrows nearly touching in confusion.

"It's a, never mind," Dean shook his head and took a sip from his glass.

"What's the other problem?" Morgan asked Castiel, breaking his awkward concentration on Dean's joke.

"Victims," Castiel told her, "there've been a few already, but we need to try and track down as many people as we can who are on the vampires' list of revenge. Hunters and their family members mostly, though some of the families have been exceptionally hard to find."

"We'll track 'em all down," Sam said confidently.

"Hopefully before the vamps do," Dean clarified.

Morgan set the book back on the table next to a long list of scribbled names, some crossed out, some circled, many of the last names were the same and she assumed these were the hunters and family members they were trying to find. Without more than a glance she jerked her head slightly at Claire and told her brothers she was going to change, descending the stairs quickly, she heard her friend moments behind her as she entered the hallway. As soon as Claire closed Morgan's bedroom door they jumped on her bed, crossing their legs at each other.

"I like Bryan," Morgan confessed, falling into a fit of giggles.

"I told you!" Claire slapped her knee lightly, "What happened?"

Morgan explained to her how he'd been the last couple days and their conversation after school, she brought up the story she heard from Kelly and Gina about the fight between him and Patrick the year before and told her about Patrick's trick at lunch.

"What a piece'a shit," Claire scoffed indignantly, "I mean, I already thought he was shady, but to pick on a kid like that," she shook her head, "fuckin' sicko, stay away from him."

"I'm tryin' to," Morgan rolled her eyes, "but I kinda hafta talk t'him in at least one class."

"Ugh," she threw her head back in disgusted frustration, "I'm glad you told him to pound sand at least, you can eat with whoever you like, y'know, if there's anyone I'd ever like to introduce to Dean."

They laughed loudly at the idea, Morgan shook her head with the image of her brother behind Patrick when he wouldn't let go of her arm, staring at her with a sultry expression. Dean would beat him within an inch of his life if he didn't end up killing the young man. Although, she had to admit her surprise and when Morgan shared his completely unexpected response to going with the cheerleaders to the dance next weekend Claire was quite possibly as shocked as she had been.

"Okay," Claire began, "so, you're not goin' to homecoming with this clown, right?"

"No," Morgan shook her head adamantly, "I'm not sure how I'm gonna avoid him the whole night, but I'll figure it out."

"Is Bryan gonna be there?" Claire asked with a small smile.

"I don't know," Morgan shrugged, she hadn't asked, "I hope so."

"Well, I bet he will be if he knows you're gonna be there without Patrick," Claire insisted.

"Maybe," she blushed a bit, hoping that was true.

"So," the blonde trailed her word curiously, "we gotta find you a dress."

Morgan dropped her head nearly into her lap and sighed at the impending task, vowing that if she had to wear a dress it would be longer than the skirt she just then realized she was still wearing and quickly rolled off her bed towards her dresser.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Billy the Kid was a real person at my high school in 2004 and that fight really happened. 
> 
> Anyone who's surprised by Dean's decision (without all the facts of course) to let Morgan go to the dance, rewatch the episode Bad Boys and tell me that pain wouldn't stick with him


	12. Chapter 12

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Welcome to the plot of this story, it's finally started :)

A hard rap on her door broke their giggling conversation and both Claire and Morgan turned to the door as Dean stepped in with an awkward, tightlipped grin.

"Girls," he nodded, "Morgan, could Cas borrow you for a few minutes?"

She understood immediately what he meant, smiling in appreciation of his subtly, Dean didn't often concern himself with being subtle.

"Yeah," she slid off her bed and Claire followed, clearly understanding this wasn't a conversation she was invited to and left the room, "where?"

"Where do you want?" he asked and Morgan looked around, deciding she didn't really want Castiel in her bedroom, she liked him and all, but he was a little awkward.

"Library?" she asked tentatively.

"Library it is," Dean nodded, gesturing out the door for her to go first.

The angel and Sam were still sitting at the table pouring over the list of victims and the latter's computer, Morgan had seen Castiel occasionally use a computer and thought it was adorably hilarious to see him shift his inclined head from one side to the other as his eyes narrowed into slits. Sam in contrast typed so fast and scanned the screen with confident thoughtfulness. They both looked up when Morgan and Dean ascended the stairs.

"Okay, where d'ya want her?" Dean asked Castiel as he hopped onto the landing.

"Could you have a seat up here Morgan?" the angel gestured to the empty table and she climbed onto the spot with her feet on a chair, "How was the progress on the smaller scars?"

"Gone," she smiled happily at him, turning her arms in front of herself, "thank you, again."

"You're welcome," he nodded, "but you can thank me when I've finished, that scar on your back should respond better to a direct concentration of energy, I will warn you, again, it will not be pleasant."

Morgan nodded her understanding, remembering well the awful wriggling feeling under her skin. Dean stood next to her beside the table, clearly with no intentions of moving, but Sam raised his eyebrows questioningly at her.

"Stay, Sam," she said quietly, "please."

With a small grin, he sat next to her on the table and nudged her with his shoulder. Castiel silently gestured to Dean to move and the oldest Winchester took one long step directly in front of his sister, offering her an encouraging grin.

"May I see your back?" Castiel asked awkwardly and Morgan flushed a little, putting her head down as she hiked her shirttail to her shoulders, "I'm going to keep my focus here," she felt his cold fingers on the mangled patch of skin, not as large as it used to be, but perpetually as ugly.

Morgan nodded that she understood, but a moment later the pain she felt between her shoulders was so sudden, sharp and hot she knew she was screaming. The familiar high-pitched squeal reached her ears, with her eyes squeezed tightly shut she could almost hear her Mother cackling behind her, the pain was terribly reminiscent of the fiery attacks she'd endured. Tears streamed down her face at the hot pain she couldn't fight, she could never fight.

"Stop! Cas! Stop now!" a deep bark echoed over her shrill cries and she felt the release of pressure as the pain began to subside.

"Dean, I was almost done," Cas told him irritably.

Morgan looked at her oldest brother, his eyes were damp and he was shaking his head adamantly at the angel with an apprehensive scowl. Glancing at Sam, he looked equally as pained, and gave her a expression that was almost apologetic.

"How's it look?" she asked quietly after regaining her voice.

"Much improved," Castiel commented, tugging her shirt back down, "not quite gone, but mostly, one more will alleviate it entirely.

"Dean," she said in a hushed voice, getting him to look at her before glancing at her other brother, "Sam, I'm okay, that was, uh, intense, but I'm okay, really."

Her upper back was throbbing like it used to following an attack from her Mother, but the smell of sizzling skin wasn't lingering behind her and the pain was subsiding significantly faster. She wiped the tears from her face and offered her brothers a weak smile.

"Good," Sam nodded with his own weak grin, "just hate t'see you in pain like that, Sweetie," he tossed his arm around her shoulders gently, pulling her into his side and planted a kiss on the top of her head.

"Would some ice help?" Dean asked.

"Ice cream would," she smirked at him.

He smiled finally, "Well, we got plenty'a that."

"Ice cream f'r'dinner?" Sam scoffed lightly.

"It's Friday," Morgan and Dean reasoned together and Sam chuckled with a relenting expression.

A little while later in the kitchen, Morgan was helping Dean concoct their dinner of bacon and ice cream while Sam made himself a salad. Claire had joined in on the bacon and ice cream decision with the additional request of leftover mashed potatoes, which Morgan and Dean were both instantly agreeable to and the blonde pulled a plastic wrap covered mixing bowl from the fridge. Sam shook his head at the three of them as they all sat around the table, he munched the end of his salad slowly witnessing the usual ravishing of a completely unusual meal.

"Dean, Sam," Castiel walked into the kitchen and Sam looked welcoming of the distraction, "I may have found something."

"Vampires 'r victims?" Dean asked after a hard swallow of ice cream, squeezing his eyes tightly together for a moment and making a grunting sound in the back of his throat.

"Victims," Castiel informed him, "I've been doing some research, tuning into cupid frequency and questioning any of them that's willing to answer, unfortunately they are not shy beings and, whether they have any viable information or not, enjoy being asked questions, it was a long day, but one of them was just helpful in regards to one of the deceased hunters and I believe I've found more family members we didn't know about."

"Awesome," Dean nodded, chomping the last of his bacon and standing to clear his dishes.

"That's a great idea Cas," Sam commented, clearing his own empty bowl to the sink and the brothers followed the angel out of the kitchen.

"What d'you know about the vampire thing?" Morgan asked Claire once they gone.

"Pretty much what they do," she shrugged, though Morgan saw the hidden contempt in a quick smirk and doubted that was entirely true considering they were in the library with Castiel and Claire had not been invited to join, "First priority is finding as many of the potential victims as we can before they're, well, not potential, and get them somewhere safe. They've been workin' with Jody and this hunter Garth to set up safe houses, we've tracked down a few already, but it hasn't been easy."

"I can imagine," Morgan thought aloud, the list she'd seen earlier seemed endless, though many of the names had already been crossed out and she didn't need anyone to tell her that meant the person who used to belong to that name was dead.

"C'mon," Claire jerked her head, picking up her empty dishes, "let's crash the party."

Morgan smirked at her, clearing her own plate and joining Claire in the short trip up the hall to the library. Dean and Castiel were in a quiet conversation over the table, pointing at the list spread in front of them, Sam was nowhere to be seen. She and Claire glanced anxiously at each other in the awkward room, but the blonde set her friend with a determined gaze and took the steps up to the library confidently with Morgan following, less confidently.

"What's the deal?" Claire walked right up to Dean and Castiel, both turned in surprise and Morgan took a seat in the arm chair to observe her brother's reaction before involving herself in the conversation.

"Do you know any hunters in Colorado?" Dean asked the blonde pointedly.

"Uh, no, I don't think so," she shook her head, "Why?"

"An old hunting buddy of our Dad's, he used to live in Manning," Dean explained, "vampires were kinda his specialty. We didn't realize he'd had a son, be maybe forty, forty-five if he's alive, we're just tryin' to track down anybody who may've heard of him."

"From my information I understand there may also be a third generation," Castiel stated.

"Let's just hope they're together," Dean sighed, nodding at Sam jogging up the stairs.

"Hey," Sam looked sullen, "Did you know Missouri died?"

"The state?" Claire, Castiel and Morgan asked simultaneously.

"Really?" Dean's eyebrows raised and his mouth contorted into a sad smirk, "No, I hadn't. When?"

"Few years ago," Sam shook his head.

"That's too bad," Dean's tone was low, "I liked her."

"Me too," Sam nodded slowly and for a few moments the room was quiet in belated respect for the deceased woman.

"Find out anything else?" Dean cleared his throat hard.

"Not really," Sam shrugged with defeat.

"I'll call around a little tomorrow," Dean assured him, "How'd you find out about Missouri?"

"Her number was disconnected 'n I was callin' through some'a Dad's old contacts, one of 'em told me," Sam explained.

"Didn't know anything about Elkins?" Dean asked, Morgan's stomach dropped.

"Elkins?" she couldn't help the quiet question from passing her lips, but only Claire noticed with an intrigued expression.

"Never met," Sam shook his head.

"This guy was practically a shut in," Dean sighed in frustration, "he didn't know anybody except everybody who's dead, how's it possible he had a kid?"

"You realize you just described Dad?" Sam smirked.

"Shut up," Dean growled.

Later in her bedroom, Morgan waited for the quick rapping that would sound just seconds before Claire would slip in and close the door quietly behind her. She didn't have to wait long.

"What'd'you know?" the blonde asked immediately, hopping onto the foot of Morgan's bed.

"What?" Morgan asked innocently, knitting her eyebrows together in perfectly feigned confusion.

"You knew that name earlier," she accused, "Elkins. How?"

Morgan had been thinking of how to excuse the slip, she didn't want anyone to know about the coincidence and that's exactly what it had to be, "I think I was just remembering it from their D-, my Dad's journal," she flushed a little at the words, it was always strange the few times she'd referred to John Winchester as her Dad, she'd never met the man.

Claire stared challengingly at her, narrowing her eyes into slits, "Really?"

"Yeah," Morgan shrugged nonchalantly, "I mean, I can't think of anywhere else I'd've heard it."

"Mhmm," Claire raised her eyebrows in disbelief, but realized she wasn't getting anywhere with her line of questioning at the moment, "Wanna watch a movie?"

"I don't think I can," she sighed defeatedly, "I'm grounded 'til Thursday."

"Oh yeah," Claire rolled her eyes, "doesn't hurt to ask though."

"Speak for y'rself," Morgan giggled and the blonde joined.

As expected, Sam and Dean didn't even need to look at each other before immediately refusing the movie. Claire was almost indignant, but Morgan shrugged in mild understanding and acceptance of the decision she'd expected. After a short debate with Dean over their rigidity with Morgan where the oldest brother warned Claire she was on thin ice and the blonde stalked off to her bedroom, the three Winchesters sat in the library quietly absorbed in their own work.

"Really like that history book huh?" Sam commented and Morgan looked up from her hunched over position at one of the tables.

"It's so cool," she smiled, thumbing through the stack of completed pages, "I didn't know any of this stuff!"

"What are you learning in class right now?" he asked.

"Prohibition," she told him, "we were talkin' about Chicago today."

"Awesome," Dean interjected from the other table, "Eliot Ness, Al Capone, now there's a movie we gotta watch, The Untouchables."

"Rub it in," she mumbled at him with a funny smirk, "Mr. Kirk mentioned them, Eliot Ness was a Prohibition agent."

"He was the Prohibition agent," Dean corrected, "and a hell of'a hunter."

Morgan couldn't help a laugh, but at Dean's intriguing eyebrow raise she stopped, "How do you-"

"Time god," he said simply.

"Ah, yes, of course," she scoffed, "time god, and let's add Eliot Ness to the freakishly long list of people you shouldn't know, but somehow do."

Sam and Dean both chuckled, nodding at the truth in her statement, when Sam dug a ringing flip phone from his pocket.

"Dad's phone?" Dean asked.

"Yeah," Sam nodded, flipping it open and jerking his head at Dean to follow him as he descended the stairs, "Hello?- Yes, this is Sam- yeah John's younger boy," and that was all she heard before they disappeared down the hall towards the garage.

Morgan's curiosity got the better of her as their footsteps faded and she set her open history book on the table, taking a few tentative steps to their work laid out on the other. The list was several pages and in no specific order that she could decipher, but she knew the name she was looking for, Elkins. She had no idea how long they'd be gone or when Castiel would return to the library, he was extremely quiet, and Morgan read as fast as she could. At the bottom of the third page, under a few back and forth scribbles, she clearly made out the name Daniel Elkins. She had read that name in her father's journal, twice, both in reference to hunts they'd been on together, but she remembered he'd written, respectfully of the older man.

Sam and Dean's footsteps echoed into the large room, but Morgan managed to slide back onto her chair before they entered from the hallway. Their hushed conversation ceased as they walked up the stairs and she bravely considered how successful Claire's request for information had gone earlier.

"Get anything?" she asked simply, gazing at them with innocent eyes.

Both raised their eyebrows in surprise and glanced at each other, smirking in their silent conversational way before looking back at her.

"A little," Sam shrugged, sitting at his computer, but swinging his chair out to face them.

"If you can call it that," Dean scoffed, flipping a chair out and straddling it, "We already knew he had a son, now we just know he's dead too."

"Name gives us a start," Sam reminded him hopefully and Dean nodded in accepted agreement.

"What was his name?" Morgan asked as nonchalantly as she could.

"William," Sam told her.

"Died about ten years ago," Dean added, "but the only reason this Vinny guy even knew that was 'cause Missouri told him."

"Think she introduced Dad to Elkins? Senior," Sam clarified.

"Maybe," Dean shrugged, "She helped a lotta hunters, but we can't ask her now."

"Yeah," Sam sighed in defeated agreement.

"Just gotta hope somebody knows somethin' about William," Dean stood, flipping the chair back under the table, "till then, we got plenty a names t'track down."

Sam nodded and the brothers resumed their work bent over the list and laptop at the other table while Morgan pretended to return to her history text book with as much enthusiasm as before. She couldn't concentrate on the words, thinking of how she could possibly ask Bryan about his father in a conversational, non-creepy kind of way.

Early the next morning, Morgan felt herself being shaken gently awake, blinking her eyes as the long, brown hair and scruffy grin came into focus in her mostly dark room.

"Hey," Sam said quietly, "we're gotta head out, but we'll be back by tomorrow," her stomach twisted and she sat up, awake immediately, "just found a few more families we can help."

"Be careful," she managed in a breaking voice and saw a smirk of pained sympathy before Sam dipped his head, returning with a smile again.

"We will," he assured her, "don't worry. We'll call, do y'r'homework, don't watch TV and I'll see you tomorrow," she nodded, not trusting herself to speak, knowing it would come out in a sob, and wrapped her arms around him when he leaned forward for a hug, kissing her head before he let her go, "Love you, Sweetie, be good."

"I love you too," she whispered, nodding that she would behave.

Sam left her room, but Morgan couldn't find sleep again. She would never ask her brothers not to hunt, it was what they did, it was who they were, but it didn't stop the gut swirling nervous, fear and guilt that tortured her while they were gone. She couldn't help thinking of Sam lying unconscious on a dirt floor, moments from death, but she couldn't help him now. All she could do was wait until her phone rang and her stomach untwisted a bit, it wouldn't fully relax until she'd hugged both of them upon return, regardless how covered they were in dirt and blood.

A hard rap on her door followed a growing stream of light as Dean snuck in and carefully walked to her bed, sitting on the edge.

"Sam told me he already woke y'up," Dean smirked, "You know the rules, behave, and I don't think I need to tell you not to go anywhere."

"No, sir," she shook her head.

"We'll be back as soon as we can," he promised.

"Please be safe," she said quietly.

"That's the idea, kid," he grinned, "we're goin' to a safe house."

She couldn't help a small giggle and eyeroll, welcoming the second strong armed embrace of the early morning and inhaling the comforting smell of her oldest brother, praying he'd come home soon in the same condition he was while hugging her at that moment. Dean planted a kiss on top of her hair and squeezed tightly before releasing her and standing to his full height.

"Go back to sleep," he ordered, she nodded with no intention of following the direction, "I'll see you soon."

The shuffling in the hall subsided quickly and Morgan wondered where they were going. Did they get a lead on William Elkins or any children he may have fathered? Only the night before it had seemed like a struggle to learn his first name and there were a lot of names on that list that weren't a secret. Why was she so concerned? Elkins had to be a popular last name.


	13. Chapter 13

Morgan didn't mind being alone in the bunker, it was certainly lonely, but not confining and dark like many of the places she'd been forced to stay in the past. Normally, she'd waste some of the time in Sam's room streaming movies and television shows, but this weekend she'd have to find other ways of entertaining herself, Sam could easily check his apps and see what had been watched, so she knew there'd be no getting away with it if she even tried. After a long, yawning stretch, Morgan rolled off her bed checking the time on her phone as she grabbed it off her nightstand, surprisingly she had managed to get back to sleep after her brothers left and it was now closer to lunch than breakfast.

She shrugged to herself, regardless of the time, she was making bacon. Morgan shuffled to the kitchen, starting the coffee maker immediately and pulled the fridge door open. On the shelf right in front of her was a resealed half package of bacon with a note in Sam's hand writing stuck to the top: Eat some vegetables too Morgan and there's fruit in the bottom drawer. She smiled warmly at his note and stuck it in her sweatpants pocket as she tossed the bacon on the counter and opened the drawer for the promised fruit. Sam often left her little reminders when they left for a hunt, but Morgan doubted he knew she kept all of them, stacked neatly together between the pages of her own hardbacked copy of Harry Potter and the Sorcerer's Stone he'd gotten her.

While the bacon was popping in the frying pan, Morgan munched a few grapes and scrolled through videos and funny pictures on her phone, but the screen went black, offering a green or red circle and simply reading 'Sam' above the options.

"Hi, Sam," she answered brightly.

"Hey, Sweetie," he sounded upbeat, "D'ja eat yet?"

"Grapes are delicious," she smiled, popping another in her mouth.

"Good," he chuckled, "So we're makin' some progress, this Fox guy we met knows a lotta hunters."

"Awesome," she nodded, forcing her tone to be casual as she apprehensively asked, "Did he know that Elkins guy?"

"Vaguely," Sam sounded hopeful, "knew he had at least one kid, but couldn't guess how old, could be fifteen t'early twenties as far as we've figured, if he's alive."

Morgan's stomach twisted at his words, but couldn't betray her nerves and responded positively, "Well let's hope he is. Did you make it to the safe house?"

"Gotta make a couple more stops now," Sam told her, "but it's good, lots'a birds, one stone."

"Good," she giggled lightly, "Still gonna be home tomorrow?"

"We're gonna try," she heard the apprehension in her brother's tone, "some'a these stops are a drive, we're haulin', but we might not be home 'til Monday now."

"Oh," Morgan knew she sounded sad, but didn't really care because she was a bit sad, if she was talking to Dean she may have checked her tone, Sam, though, he understood, "Like early?"

"I hope," he sighed, "prob'lly while y'r'at school. Dean thought it might go longer and convinced me to park the Mustang out front behind that brush so you won't hafta worry about the garage doors."

"Thanks," her tone was hushed, she should be excited to drive the Mustang while she wasn't supposed to, but was still disheartened at an extra night alone, "Where are the keys?"

He chuckled, "Don't think y'r'goin' anywhere but school 'n back."

"I know," she sighed, "still need to start it when I go there though."

"They're on my dresser, Brat," she could almost see him smiling and shaking his head over the phone, "be good, we'll call you later, oh, hang on Dean wants t'talk t'you."

"Hey, kid," her oldest brother's low voice came on the phone, "Didn't eat all the bacon did'ja?"

"There was like four pieces in there," she scoffed indignantly, but smiled when he chuckled.

"There's a couple more packs in the freezer, we'll stop on our way home and grab some supplies," he assured her and lowered his tone even more into his serious growl, "We'll be home as soon as we can, you take that car to school 'n home, and I promise, Morgan, I will know if you went anywhere else 'n how fast you were doin' it."

She gulped at his threatening confidence, quietly imploring her words, "Yes, sir, I won't."

"Better not," he finished curtly, "Have a good day, maybe clean up that sty of a room, almost killed myself sayin' goodbye t'you this mornin'."

"Love you too, Dean," she sighed, "talk t'you later."

"Later, Sweetie," he chuckled and they hung up the phone.

Morgan set her phone on the counter and pulled the bacon from the sizzling grease, lining the strips on a paper towel. Her phone beeped and she saw a new text from Claire- 'Btw I'm pretty sure Sam put a gps on the stang', and smiled at her friend's constant solidarity, even though she had no intention of breaking any more rules with the car.

'Thanks for the heads up :) how's the trip?'

'Ur brother exhausted his Zeppelin tapes… I think we're finally getting into the 80's lol'

'He does that, don't get too excited, '86 is like his cut off- Long drive?'

'First place was like two hours, didn't take much convincing, guess they'd been getting threats but now they're following us and we found like three more families, so yeah, long, terribly boring, wish I was hunting something…'

'Lol saving people is the other half of the family business ;)'

'Ur crazy family not mine! Lol ;p'

'You've got a gun, a bad attitude and an extensive array of flannels… pretty sure you're one of us now'

Morgan laughed out loud when Claire's response came in the form of a cartoon middle finger.

For a few hours, she lazed in the arm chair reading her history book in the silence of the library, every few paragraphs she had to go back and reread after realizing she hadn't absorbed a single word. It wasn't like her to not pay attention to new information, especially when she was eager to learn, but Morgan couldn't help the intrusive thoughts of the Elkins family and repeatedly assured herself Bryan couldn't be related. The chances that a hunter from Colorado, who used to work with her father, having a grandson who ended up in the same Kansas high school as her was just too much of a stretch, even for her life.

Her phone beeped, dragging her thoughts from Bryan and her eyes from the words she wasn't reading to a text from Heather.

'Hey girl! What r u doin 2nite?'

Morgan rolled her eyes, glancing around the empty room, 'Not much, just hanging out at home'

'Come with us! We're going 2 the movies!'

She scoffed sadly at the invitation, not wanting to admit she was grounded and considered for a moment the best way to respond before texting, 'I would but I gotta help my brothers with some stuff'

'They can come too! Lol jk If you can get out of it text me!'

'Definitely!' Morgan responded, knowing the word should be followed with 'will not happen', and, sighing with a little frustrated defeat, she wondered if her brothers would've let her go even if she wasn't in trouble.

Her stomach sank as the door above clanged, footsteps echoing on the metal balcony. Instinctually, her fingers flexed straight into an attack position before shaking her head, remembering she couldn't use magic to defend herself and quickly snatched the gun her brothers kept strapped under the library table. Morgan crouched slightly in a balanced stance, edging along the library wall until she reached the corner, the footsteps had stopped tapping on metal, slowly approaching the stairs she was at the top of and with a deep breath she turned exactly as she'd learned, the loaded and ready weapon pointed directly at the intruder.

"Cas!" she gasped, dropping the pistol to her side immediately, "What the hell, dude?!"

"I'm sorry I frightened you," the angel dipped his head, his expression hardly ever changing in the entire altercation, "I realized I'd forgotten something, I should've called."

"Jeezus, y'think?" Morgan breathed, still shaking her head, "I'm fine, it's fine. I thought you went with them."

Castiel did what Morgan understood to be a smirk and shook his head, "Their mission this weekend is to move humans safely into hiding, and, my people skills are rusty," Morgan couldn't help but giggle, the angel didn't often make jokes, or anything that resembled them, his countenance hardly changed, "Are you studying more of your history?"

"Just readin'," Morgan shrugged, "I finished my homework, this is just fun."

"I don't think many your age would agree with that statement," Castiel said pointedly.

"Yeah, well," she shrugged, "I'm kind of a freak."

For a moment, he seemed to be assessing her again, like the first time they'd met, his eyes bearing uncomfortably into hers.

"Do you feel up to the last session?" he asked finally and Morgan sighed, relieved he didn't comment on what she'd called herself.

"Yeah," she nodded confidently, "let's get this done."

Without being told, Morgan climbed onto the table and hiked her shirt to her shoulders, hopeful this would be the last time. Willing to endure whatever pain would ensure that scar was alleviated from her back, the last physical memory of her Mother.

"This will hurt," he warned, stepping to her side.

"Yeah, Cas," she sighed, "I know, just, just finish it. Okay? Please, just finish it."

She saw him nod out of the corner of her eye before squeezing them shut tightly, biting her lips in pain before screaming out when it became too much. The burning was right there, where it always was, always had been. Why couldn't she just make fire? What was wrong with her? Why couldn't her stupid little fingers and her stupid little head just make a stupid little flame? She was worthless, she knew, but she'd done it, finally. The diminutive purple flame bounced in her tiny palm, covered carefully by her other hand, that heat was nothing to what had still throbbed on her back, shaking as she exposed the flame to her Mother. In nearly the same moment she'd slapped the pathetic ember away her other hand had caught the little girl's face hard, laughing her congratulations as she walked away.

"Morgan?" Castiel's deep voice grabbed her from the painful memory and she opened her green eyes at the angel, "Are you alright?"

"Yeah," her voice broke as she said it and cleared her throat hard, "yeah, I'm okay, I'm fine."

"It's gone," he told her.

"What?" she breathed, nearly having forgotten why they were there, but the familiar throbbing in her back was subsiding where it used to simmer for days.

"It's gone," he repeated and she slid a slender arm down her back, feeling for the mangled patch that had always been there, her smile growing wider as she felt nothing but smooth skin under her fingers.

"Thank you, Cas, so much," she heard the break from the tightness in her throat and knew her eyes were damp.

"You're welcome," he gave her a tiny smile.

"So, uh," Morgan sniffled, pulling her shirt back down, "What'd you forget?"

Castiel shifted his eyes momentarily before looking back at her, "That spell, I wanted to get a head start on some of the ingredients," he told her, moving towards the bookshelf and examining the spines.

"I guess you could get the roots of the Tree of Heaven whenever," she shrugged, "but the bat fangs hafta be fresh 'n I don't think it takes long for a fish to grow so we'd prob'lly do better to wait on that one till were closer, everything else we pretty much have, or it's a milk run."

"Yes," Castiel said, not looking at her and pulling a large volume from the shelf while he continued to browse, "still, always better to be prepared," pulling a second book from the shelf, the angel smiled at Morgan and nodded as he walked towards the stairs, "I must be going."

"Cas," she furrowed her brow at him, eyed the two books and slowly shifting her eyes up to his, "It's only one spell, and it's not in either of those."

"It's, uh," he looked at the books with badly feigned confusion, "it's not? I was sure it was one of these, I'm in a bit of a hurry."

"Here," Morgan took the large volumes out of his hands, cradling them in one arm as she crossed to the bookshelf and plucked the correct text from a shelf, offering it to the angel and noticing a distinctly disgruntled nostril flare.

"Thank you," he nodded curtly, taking the book, "I'll be going."

Morgan was relieved when he left and thought that was strange because she was lonely, his company was just a bit uncomfortable though and she preferred solitude to awkward moments of forced conversation, and Castiel hardly did that. As the door clanged shut above her and she listened for the heavy lock to slide into place, Morgan set the heavy texts down on the table to examine them.

They were a set, the first volume began with a brief, basic overview of demons, Hell, Lucifer, the cage, and even included an interesting blurb about the theory that Dante's Inferno may have instigated some of the creativity that has been known to exist in the ultimate abyss since its publication. Morgan skimmed through the pages and found how much more intricate, detailed, and frighteningly intriguing it became as she learned the different types of demons, how to tell, how to fight them and so on. Lists of known people who'd been possessed finished each section and before Morgan realized it, she was in the arm chair, engrossed in the horribly amazing information. What would Castiel need with this information on demons? Didn't he know most, if not everything the book contained?

A low growl from her stomach tore her attention from the volume and after a quick glance at her phone, realized she'd been sitting for hours studying the demonic information. Without windows in the bunker she often lost track of the time of day, especially in the library while absorbed in a book, it was already after when they'd normally eat dinner and Morgan hadn't had anything since the late breakfast of fruit and bacon. Pulling herself from the arm chair, she stacked the first volume on top of the second and carried both with her to the kitchen, her phone started ringing in the hallway and she shifted the texts into one arm, digging the buzzing device from her pocket.

"Hey, Dean," she answered.

"Hey, kiddo, how's y'r'day been?" he asked.

"Okay," Morgan shrugged, "Cas stopped by."

"Why?" his tone lowered.

"Said he needed that vampire spell," she told him, "wanted to get a head start on the ingredients."

"Okay," Dean sounded thoughtful and his word trailed a bit before he continued, "Did he stay long?"

"No," she responded, unsure how to approach what she wanted to tell him, "it was kinda weird though, I don't know, I mean, he tried to take a couple other books first 'cause I guess he thought the spell was in one of them, but they're not even spell books."

"What are they?" he growled.

"From what I've read, pretty much every fact, theory and myth about demons and hell," she flipped open the first volume again on the kitchen table, "I mean this is centuries of information, but I'd think he would know most of it. Wouldn't he?"

"Yeah," again, Dean's word trailed off more like he was thinking aloud than responding, "Did you get him the right book?"

"Yeah," she nodded, "I switch them, but I don't know, it just seemed like he knew what he was doin'."

Dean cleared his throat hard and Morgan hoped she hadn't overstepped, she knew Cas and her oldest brother were close and didn't want to sound like she was accusing his best friend of something underhanded, even if she was, "I'm sure there's an explanation."

"Yeah," she agreed doubtfully, "y'r'prob'lly right. So how's the search 'n rescue goin'?"

"Good," he sounded upbeat again, "surprisingly, but I'm sure a wrench'll hit the gears, always does."

"Hope not," Morgan muttered at his perpetual pessimism, "Get any new info on Elkins?"

"Naw, haven't had time to do anymore research," he told her, "just playin' Harriet Tubman from one place to the next."

"You're definitely more of a John Brown," she giggled.

Dean chuckled, "I'm glad you're likin' that history book. What'd'ja do f'r'dinner?"

"Tryin' t'figure that out," she told him, opening the fridge.

"Should be some frozen burritos in there," he said and she heard Sam yell something behind him, "Sam said they go great with ice cream," she couldn't help but giggle hearing her brothers arguing in the background, "definitely crumble some bacon on top," she distinctly heard Sam stifling amusement and yell the word 'vegetables' before all three started laughing.

"Tell Sam I'm pullin' them out now," she giggled.

"Y'better be," Sam chuckled, obviously having wrestled the phone from Dean.

"Hey, Sam," Morgan smiled, tossing the bag of frozen, mixed vegetables on the counter and digging further for the burritos.

"Hey, Sweetie," he said, "How's y'r'homework comin'?"

"Been done," she scoffed, "just readin' 'n tryin' t'keep myself from goin' crazy alone," the last part she intentionally tried to sound a little pathetic.

"Yeah," he sighed, "well, look, if y'run outta stuff t'read I guess you can watch a little TV before goin' t'bed," this time she heard Dean yell something in the background, but grinned at Sam's small relent on her punishment, "Dean, chill, Morgan, be good 'n I'll talk t'you tomorrow."

"Bye, Sam," she said, but heard the shuffling of Dean's phone and her oldest brother came back on.

"Try 'n watch somethin' educational," he growled, "y'like history, watch a document'ry."

"You in any of 'em?" she smirked.

"Funny," he scoffed, "a'right Brat, we'll talk tomorrow. G'night."

"G'night, Jerk," she smiled and they hung up the phone.

It was hard to concentrate on her dinner with the text in front of her offering more information than she would've ever thought man could obtain about the afterworld of Hell. She shuddered to think her brothers had been to that place, really been to it, not just in Crowley's throne room, but tortured and broken in the pit. Her burrito was cold by the time she finished it, the vegetables mostly untouched.

She brought both large volumes to bed with her, despite her brother's invitation, Morgan had something much more intriguing than television to keep her interest. Barely tearing her eyes from the words, she slipped into a pair of pajama pants and crawled under her blanket, propping herself up on an elbow to continue reading the massive text, the second volume waiting on her dresser. Somewhere in the middle of the section on red-eyed demons, she dozed off, waking hours later to nothing more than her pillow, her dresser free of demonic text books.


	14. Chapter 14

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> One of my favorite chapters I got to write for Morgan :)

Despite knowing exactly what happened, Morgan tore her bedroom apart in search of the satanic volume set, even checking the kitchen and the library, but they were nowhere. How did she tell Dean? Did she tell Dean? Maybe she should tell Sam first and see how it went, it was Cas after all. Though, she couldn't help but feel incredibly violated thinking of him sneaking into her room while she was sleeping and sneaking a book out from under her arm. What did he want with those books? Morgan was kicking herself for not having hardly glanced at the second volume before engrossing herself in the first.

There had to be an explanation, like Dean had said, but if Castiel had offered that explanation he wouldn't have had to sneak into her bedroom late at night. Suddenly, she was dreading another night in the bunker alone even more than she already had been.

Staring at her phone, she was contemplating what to do, when Sam made her decision all the more forced by calling. After a few seconds, she pressed the green button.

"Hey, Sam," she tried to sound upbeat.

"Mornin', Sweetie," he did sound upbeat, "how'd y'sleep?"

"Fine," she told him honestly, obviously, she'd been out cold, "How's everything on y'r'end?"

"Good," he said, "real good, makin' our last trip now actually. Gonna help them get set up with some supplies 'n we'll be on our way home."

"Okay," she knew it was silly to be hopeful that they'd be home any sooner than Monday, "hey, uh, are you with Dean?"

"Yeah, he's right here, hang on," Sam said and she heard the shuffling of the phone.

"Hey, kiddo," Dean sounded like he was smiling, Morgan didn't want to make him not smile.

"Hey," she breathed, unsure what to say, Castiel was his best friend, "you still gonna be home Monday afternoon?"

"Things 'r goin' well," he said tentatively, constantly unsure of smooth sailing, "maybe earlier than that, we're tryin' t'get back quick, believe me."

"Yeah, just," she sighed, "drive fast."

"Y'know me," he chuckled, but paused and lowered his tone, "Everything alright, Morgan?"

"Yeah," she said quickly, "I'm fine, just, I don't know."

"Morgan," he growled, "talk."

"Those books are gone," she told him quickly, holding her breath in wait for his reaction.

"What books?" he asked.

"The ones I told you Cas tried to take instead'a the spell book," she hurried her words before she lost her nerve, the expected silence sat between them on the phone heavily.

"Are you sure?" he asked slowly after a few moments.

"I fell asleep reading one of them," she admitted, "it was gone when I woke up."

"Y'can't fall asleep in the library, kid," he scolded.

"I didn't," she told him quietly and heard a distinct growl through the speaker.

"I'll figure out what's goin' on," he assured her, "don't freak out, Cas does weird crap sometimes 'n doesn't always think to explain himself, but I'm, uh, I'm sorry, I'll talk t'him. We'll hurry, I promise."

"Thanks," she couldn't help sounding pathetic.

"Y'r'okay," he said encouragingly, "we'll be home soon," when he didn't hear a response he continued, "Hey, I love y'kid."

"Love you too, Dean," she smiled a little, she knew her oldest brother loved her, but he didn't often say the words, she assumed he thought it wasn't macho, not that it bothered her, his actions said it more anyway.

After they hung up, Morgan walked around the bunker, first up the spiral stairs to the front door, ensuring all the locks were in place, before making her way to the garage. She didn't often wander the fortress while it was empty, it was very cold and quiet, even if she didn't feel the powerful wardings anymore, Morgan still shuddered when she passed the hallway leading to the dungeon. The library, the kitchen, the shared hallway and their bedrooms branching from it felt like home, but the rest of the structured maze was almost frightening. The garage doors were also shut and completely locked. It didn't surprise her, but she would have thought about it all day if she hadn't checked.

The rest of her Sunday was spent trying to distract herself from the books and wondering why the angel had taken them, she was extremely unsuccessful. For at least an hour in the library, she continued to realize she was staring at the same page in her history book, yet not seeing a single word. There was nothing she could do and she'd already told her brother, now all she could do was hope there was a good explanation and try not to think about it. Even if there was a good reason for him to take the books, she was curious to know why he thought it was appropriate to sneak into her bedroom.

Falling asleep that night was difficult, every tiny sound in the bunker made her sit up and turn her bedside lamp on, staring at the door in anticipation of an intruder. Finally, she managed to drift off only to hear "Iron Man" blaring from her phone it seemed just moments later.

Brushing sleep from her eyes, Morgan rolled off her bed and sleepily walked out of her bedroom towards the showers. She dressed in a ACDC shirt, jeans and laced her boots over them before tossing her blue jacket on and grabbing her backpack on the way out the door. Opening Sam's door, she slipped the keys off the corner of his dresser.

Morgan knew she should be excited to drive the Mustang, but, truthfully, she just wished her brothers were home, even if one of them would've driven her to school. Turning up the spiral stairs, she overlooked the large room before leaving through the heavy metal door and locking it on her way out. As promised, the Mustang was parked behind the brush.

She couldn't get Castiel and the demon books out of her head as she made the now familiar turns to school at just under the legal limit. When she pulled into the parking lot, however, and spotted Bryan's car in the back, she was reminded of the other concern that had been badgering her all weekend. There was no way William Elkins could have been his father, but of course she had to be sure, and there was no sense in worrying anyone else about the coincidence until it proved otherwise. Morgan slid the Mustang into the open spot next to Bryan's Buick, just as his door was cracking open.

"G'mornin'," he smiled when she got out of the car.

"Mornin'," she smiled back, swinging her backpack onto her shoulders and joining him on the walk into the school.

"Have a good weekend?" he asked and she noticed a discolored mark on his cheek.

"It was okay," she smirked, "How was yours?"

"Just workin'," he shrugged, but before Morgan could ask about the bruise they both turned as someone called to them.

"Hey," Franky approached them near the stairs and Morgan confirmed to herself that this was not the moment to try to garner information on anything.

They greeted each other, everyone vaguely agreeing they also had an okay weekend and the boys left down the opposite hall as Morgan to their first classes.

Kelly waved at her as she and Shannon chatted near the lockers outside Mr. Carson's English room and Morgan approached the girls with a forced smile, her mind still too focused on other things to absorb whatever nonsense Kelly was about to tell her.

"I was just telling Shannon she missed a great movie Saturday," Kelly taunted, "it's too bad you didn't come either."

"Yeah," Morgan nodded, "What'd you guys see?"

"Keeping up with the Joneses," she told her, "it was hilarious and Jon Hamm, just, mmm," she giggled and Shannon and Morgan shared a small head shake.

"Well I'm good now," Shannon announced, "she told me yesterday, so I can go to the dance and all this weekend."

Morgan wasn't sure if Kelly made actual words through the squealing sounds as the blonde jumped happily in front of them. She tried to look ecstatic, but knew she was failing miserably.

"What about you, Morgan?" Kelly asked pointedly as her excitement calmed.

"Me, oh, I, yeah," she'd almost forgotten with everything else going on that Dean had agree to let her go to the dance, it seemed so insignificant now, "he said okay."

Kelly repeated her squealing bounce, but Shannon also looked overjoyed at the news, clapping her hands together in front of a wide smile.

"Well, you know this means we have to find you a dress," Shannon looked eager at the thought.

"Oh, my uh," Morgan thought how to phrase it, "my friend, she really wants to go with me to find it, we've been talkin' about it a little."

"Well we should all go," Shannon suggested.

"Yeah, maybe," Morgan said to appease the conversation, trying not to giggle thinking of Claire around the cheerleading squad.

They shuffled into their first classes a few moments before the bell rang and as usual Mr. Carson welcomed each of them enthusiastically. Morgan was hoping class would be a distraction, but it didn't prove interesting enough to tear her mind from the thoughts of Bryan and his unknown lineage or Castiel and his unexplained thievery. As Kelly bobbed and babbled next to her on the way to the three hundred wing Morgan nodded with a small grin, not hearing a word the blonde was saying.

Bryan caught her eye as he walked from the opposite direction towards Miss Ellet's classroom and Kelly nudged her in the shoulder, rolling her eyes and walked away.

"Fancy seeing you here," he grinned and Morgan couldn't help but giggle, it was the kind of lame joke Dean would make, but he was cute making it, "Are you busy after school?"

"Well I have cheerleading practice," she told him.

"After that," he nodded.

"I, uh," she shifted her gaze to her feet for a moment, feeling heat hit her cheeks, "I kinda gotta go home."

"Uh-oh," he chuckled knowingly, "What'd you do?"

She grinned at his understanding and amusement towards the circumstance, "Sixty-seven in a fifty-five."

"That'll do it," he nodded, "Well, uh, if I happened t'be here when you got outta practice, could I, uh, talk to you before y'gotta head home?"

Morgan's insides made a strange motion as part of her became nervously excited at the proposition and part of her was relieved at having such a convenient opportunity arise to ask him about his family, after a moment she shook her head from the thoughtful daze, but saw his expression falter.

"Yes," she said quickly, happy to see the smile come back to his face, "that's, yes, that would be great."

"Then I'll see you after four," he grinned, pushing open the door to the classroom for her to walk through first.

Patrick was already at their table, talking loudly across the room to someone else, but leveled Bryan with a scowl as they walked in together, hardly changing his expression as he watched Morgan take the seat beside him.

"Still talkin' t'that asshole?" he mumbled.

"If your friend didn't tell you," she narrowed her eyes at him, "I will talk to whoever I want."

Patrick's eyebrows raised in surprise, but he didn't respond and thankfully the bell rang a moment later. It was a rather awkward class period considering it was another lab with a lot of partner work, but Patrick seemed rather subdued and simply nodded as she told him what to write down. At one point, she caught a glance at Bryan and his lab partner and chuckled realizing it was a similar process at their table where Bryan was completing the work and the young man next to him occasionally took his head off the table long enough to jot down a few notes. They smiled at each other and she heard Patrick expel a hard breath.

"Hey, look," the large young man began as they waited for the bell to ring after returning the lab equipment and packing their bags, "I don't know what your problem is with me all of a sudden, but I'm tryin' t'be a nice guy here."

"How?" she tried not to scoff and looked as hard at him as he was at her.

"Hey if you don't wanna go t'the dance with me that's y'r'loss," he growled, standing as the bell rang.

"I don't," she told him plainly, feeling a little guilty at the quick crease of sadness in his brow before he narrowed his eyes at her again.

"Whatever," he scoffed, pushing passed a few other students on his way out of the classroom.

"That went well," Bryan was slipping his bag on his shoulders and smiling at her.

"Whatever," she chuckled, shrugging and following his gesture to walk ahead of him out the door.

Between the relief of being released from going to the dance with Patrick and the impending conversation later that afternoon with Bryan, Morgan was almost able to start enjoying her second Monday at school. Lunch with Gina was more comfortable than Friday as she knew her friends now and they seemed to take better to her outfit than the previous one they'd seen her wearing. Morgan glanced at Patrick on their way back from the lunch line, expecting a scowl and was relieved to see he was ignoring her.

"Hey, Gina," Bryan approached their table, the other girls smiled shyly, but Gina bumped knuckles with the young man and gestured him the seat next to Morgan, which he took immediately, smiling at her, "Hi."

"Hey," she grinned.

"Bryan, Joe says you better get y'r'beast out t'Five Points one'a these nights," Gina told him, sipping her soda.

"Itchin' t'get his ass kicked again?" Bryan chuckled and Gina joined him.

"Said his new boost is gonna smoke ya," she shrugged.

"He can add all the nitrous he wants to that rice burner," Bryan told her, "still gonna be starin' at my taillights."

"Lotta talk for somebody who hasn't dragged in a while," the tall girl joked lightly.

"Yeah," Bryan grinned admittingly, "been workin' a lot."

"Well the drunks aren't gonna bounce themselves," Gina scoffed and Morgan shifted her confused gaze from Gina to Bryan.

"Lotta drunks at the pancake house?" she chuckled.

"Sometimes," he grinned, "I work there during the day, Friday 'n Saturday nights I do security at Randy's."

"What's that?" she asked.

"Local dive bar," Gina told her, "Bryan keeps people from killin' each other."

"I try," he shrugged modestly.

"Is that where you got," she let her question trail off as she pointed to the light bruise on his cheek and he nodded.

"Y'should see the other guy," he joked and she couldn't help a small giggle, feeling a little heat in her cheeks.

"You goin' to the dance this weekend?" Gina asked him, "Joe'll be there."

"He's takin' Mandy?" Gina nodded at Bryan's question and the young man scoffed, "M'kinda surprised that's still goin'."

"You?" Gina scoffed, "Girl barely leaves our house."

"Yeah, I don't know," Bryan shrugged, glancing quickly at Morgan, "haven't decided, but I've got the weekend off mostly."

"Mostly?" Morgan asked.

"Can't miss Sunday brunch," he chuckled, "that's where I make my money."

The bell rang for their next period and Morgan sighed a little, wishing she had more time with Bryan, but smiled when she remembered their scheduled conversation after cheerleading practice. He walked with her to math class, telling her about the races on Five Points Road outside of town, he, Gina's brother, Joe, and a bunch of other car guys met there Saturday nights. Bryan admitted he hadn't been to many since picking up the security job at the bar, but seemed content that the money was worth missing the fun. Morgan listened intently to him, he had a deep voice she found easy to get lost in, but they reached her classroom too soon, Sam brushed passed them without a glance.

The rest of her day seemed to drag unbelievably slow, even Mr. Kirk's class was longwinded and despite the very well fitted polo shirt he wore, Morgan couldn't stop wishing it was four o'clock. Gym arrived and she and Gina changed together as the taller girl made a few complimentary remarks about Bryan.

"He's like my second big brother," she told Morgan, "he 'n Joe have been friends forever. He basically lived at our house until they got cars."

"Have they always been into racing?" Morgan wondered.

Gina laughed and nodded, "Always, even on their bikes when we were kids, but back then it was even, Bryan's car's basically unbeatable."

Morgan scoffed lightly to herself, while she'd never seen Bryan drive other than out of the school, she was fairly certain the Impala wouldn't be shown up in a competition, "That's cool, do you go out there with them?"

"Sometimes," she shrugged, "if it's a bunch'a people. Bryan usually leaves early if a lotta other kids show up, though."

"Why?" she asked her tall friend.

"The cops don't really have a problem with a couple of 'em goin' out there and foolin' around," Gina told her, "but sometimes it gets a little rowdy 'n somebody always bring beer, he just doesn't like to mess around with that crap I guess," Morgan nodded in agreement that she understood why, "It's not like he doesn't have fun," Gina assured her, "he's just got a lot t'take care of, it's just him 'n his mom 'n she works a lot too."

She thought on these words all through gym class and cheerleading, a couple times Shannon had to repeat instructions before Morgan tried with everything she had to focus on the dance steps. Cheerleading was less enjoyable than it ever had been, but she was sure that had more to do with her constantly checking the clock on the gym wall, internally indignant when Shannon kept them over by three minutes. She changed quickly with the team and was one of the first out the door, Bobby practically skipping out with her, she liked Bobby, he always made her giggle.

"Ooh girl," he nudged her with his elbow, jerking his head across the lot at Bryan sitting on the trunk of his Buick next to her Mustang, "git'it!"

She giggled, shaking her head at Bobby and said good-bye as she crossed the lot, her stomach twisting from eager nerves with every step. He smiled as she approached and hopped off the black trunk deck, towering over her as usual.

"Hi," he sounded nervous.

"Hey," she smiled shyly, very nervous.

For a moment, there was an awkward silence between them while they continued stealing glances at each other and looking away again.

"So, I don't think I hafta worry about Patrick anymore," she told him with a little scoff.

"Hope not," he nodded, "Y'ready for this weekend?"

"We'll see," she shrugged, "Will you be at the game?"

"Wasn't plannin' on it," he told her and offered a secretive smile, "but I might not be able to resist the halftime show."

She giggled in lieu of an actual response, feeling warmth on her cheeks, his smile was endearing and he was so handsome. Morgan shifted her gaze from his dark brown eyes and found her focus on the back of his pretty, black coupe.

"So, you race this?" she took a side step towards the car, conveniently moving a bit closer to the young man as well.

"Sometimes," he shrugged, "I treat her pretty good," he knocked on the trunk, "but she needs to haul every once 'n a while."

"I bet," Morgan giggled, thinking of the exciting aggression the Impala responded with when Dean red lined the RPM's, "How long have y'had it?"

"Forever," he chuckled, "It was my dad's, pretty beat up, but I put her back together."

Morgan knew there would be no better opportunity than the one she was just graced with and inconspicuously said, "That's cool'a him t'give you his car."

Bryan shrugged a little sadly and Morgan's stomach turned, "He, uh, passed away a while back," she felt nausea stirring in the pit of her stomach, but listened without changing her expression, "my mom kept it in the garage, she didn't want me t'drive it, but when she saw everything I'd done she gave up 'n let me have it."

"Why didn't she want you to drive it?" Morgan forced her tone to not shake as she asked.

"Not sure," he told her, running his fingers over the paint, "she doesn't talk about him much."

"What was his name?" the question she'd been waiting to ask hung in the air for a moment and she prayed to not hear the one name that would solidify the insane coincidence, not to mention ensure this young man's life was in danger.

"Bill," he said and Morgan felt such relief inside she was worried she'd actually sighed outwardly as well, it was a complete coincidence, exactly as she'd thought it was, but it certainly made her feel better to know.

Their conversation continued about a wide variety of interests they shared and Morgan wished she could stay all night in the empty parking lot with him. Her ringing phone interrupted the stomach fluttering moment and a moment later the butterflies became rocks as she saw Dean's name on her screen.

"I gotta," she grimaced at Bryan with a finger to her lips as she slid her finger on the screen to answer, "Hey, Dean."

"Why are you still at the school?" he asked gruffly, Claire was definitely right about that GPS.

"Practice got out late," she told him, it wasn't entirely untrue, "I'm just gettin' t'the car now, I'll be home in a few."

"Drive safe 'n don't speed," he reminded.

"I know," she sighed.

"Morgan," he growled.

"Sorry," she mumbled, turning away from Bryan, "I will, I promise, on my way now."

"Miss you," he told her, "see you soon."

"Miss you too," smiling a little and they hung up the phone and she turned to Bryan with a little pout, "I gotta go."

"You're pretty slick, huh?" he chuckled, shaking his head and taking a step towards her, "I'm gonna hafta watch out."

"For me?" she asked innocently, reclining her head as he got closer.

"Oh, yeah," he nodded, looking at her with intensity, "but I think y'r'the kinda trouble I'm lookin' for," and in the next moment he'd leaned down and pressed his lips to hers.


	15. Chapter 15

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Does anyone read this? I mean you're here, we're fourteen chapters in so if you're here chances are you're going to read this chapter. I really appreciate that and hope you enjoy it :) I still suck at summaries.

Morgan couldn't wipe the silly smile from her face as she drove home, replaying the kiss in her mind over and over. His strong hand holding her close to him in the small of her back as his other ran through her hair and he kissed her, absolutely perfectly. Having never had a kiss before, she didn't know exactly what to expect, but was more than pleased with what she'd gotten. His lips had been soft, but his kiss was hard, like his arms, she'd learned, as her hands had gently gripped his biceps before finding their way to his firm abdomen and around to his muscular back. Despite a voice in the back of her head saying she should've been on her way, it took the two teenagers at least ten minutes to untangle themselves from each other, even after pushing apart initially she couldn't help but allow him to pull her back a couple times before finally insisting she should be getting home. Dean called again just as the cave entrance came into view.

"I'm pullin' in right now," she assured him immediately.

"What the hell took y'so long?" he asked roughly.

"I'm sorry," she tried to sound pitiable, despite still being unable to remove the smile from her face, "I got caught up."

"Yeah, that Sherri's a bit of a talker," he scoffed and Morgan felt a twist of guilt as she didn't correct his assumption, not even trying to convince herself she hadn't lied.

"I'm in the tunnel," she told him.

"See you in a minute," and they hung up the phone.

Morgan tried to force her face into a neutral position as the light in the garage grew larger, both brothers' large outlines slowly becoming clear. Seeing them stand there though, safe and whole, another smile crept onto her face as she slowly pulled the Mustang next to the Impala.

"I'm sorry I'm late," she grimaced apologetically, but Sam approached with open arms and she rushed into him, "I missed you."

"I missed you too," he kissed the top of her head and held her for a few more moments before letting go.

"C'mere," Dean beckoned with a small smirk and he wrapped his familiar arms around her as she mumbled into his t-shirt.

"I'm glad y'r'home."

"Me too," he kissed her head where Sam had and with one firm squeeze released her.

"How was school?" Sam asked, grabbing her backpack from the passenger seat, swinging it onto one shoulder.

"Okay," she told them, again forcing the goofy smile from sneaking back on her face, "Where's Claire?"

"She's takin' a nap," Dean told her, "Don't mind hangin' out with just us for a minute do ya?"

"No," she giggled lightly, nudging into his side and he threw his arm around her shoulders as they walked down the hallway, "Did you, uh, talk t'Cas?"

Dean's head dipped and shook slightly, "Not yet."

Morgan glanced at Sam and saw him smirk unhappily, but no one spoke on the matter further.

She dumped her bag in her bedroom and joined her brothers in the kitchen for a little while as they drank a few beers and told her about their weekend. She listened attentively, trying to keep her thoughts from Bryan, the parking lot and that kiss she wished hadn't ended. First, her brothers and Claire had traveled to Texas and found a family who'd already seen the signs of trouble coming and had a few friends they'd requested got picked up along the way to the safe house. After compiling the caravan, they'd headed to the safe house outside of Las Vegas. Dean seemed a little frustrated that he'd been minutes from the strip the last day of their trip and didn't get to place one bet, Sam rolled his eyes saying they'd still be there if he'd let the oldest into a casino.

They'd been to New Mexico, Arizona and California on the same day to find other victims, a few they didn't even know about, and ended up meeting a hunter by the name of Asa Fox.

Fox, as Sam and Dean called him, seemed to know a lot of hunters and had been in the game since the eighties, he'd immediately taken to the brothers and told them it was their mother, Mary, who'd saved him from a werewolf attack and gotten him interested in hunting. He'd met John twice briefly in the past and had worked with Daniel Elkins the same number of times, on separate occasions, so far he seemed to be the only one who knew Elkins had had a son named William, and Fox hadn't known his name, just that he'd existed. Apparently, Daniel and William had not had a great relationship, but Fox was sure the man had mentioned having a grandson the last time they'd worked a hunt together in the early years of the millennium.

Morgan was unable to keep her mind from Bryan while Dean brought up his ironic last name, she felt relief and nerves again thinking of his handsome face and forced control over her expression to not allow the goofy smile.

"Unfortunately," Dean set his empty beer on the table and stood to get another, "the few other people who ever heard of any of the Elkins family keep sayin' Missouri mentioned them."

"Who's Missouri?" Morgan asked, she'd been wondering since the woman had been brought up days before.

"This psychic Dad knew," Sam told her, waving his empty bottle at Dean, "she used t'live in Lawrence."

"Kinda helped him lay the ground work for hunting when he started," Dean continued, popping the caps off two beers and handing one to Sam as he returned to the table, "she was a cool lady, little frightening."

Sam chuckled, "She'd beat'cher ass as a grown man."

"With a spoon," Dean laughed and they clinked their bottles together before taking a swig.

Morgan couldn't help but giggle with them in a memory she didn't share, but their amusement was contagious, perhaps because it was rare.

"We can just hope that if it's this hard f'r'us t'find them the vampires aren't havin' any better luck," Dean said to Sam and the younger nodded in agreement.

They continued talking about the case and other victims they needed to track down or contact other hunters to help, but now that they'd brought up Elkins Morgan couldn't get Bryan out of her head no matter how hard she tried. She thought it was terribly inconvenient he shared his last name with one of the people they were trying to find, repeatedly sipping her soda to stifle the silly grin she couldn't stop.

"What's up with you?" Dean's question brought her back to reality as she locked her matching eyes on his and shook her head.

"Nothing," she insisted, "I'm fine, I, uh, gotta, I'll be right back," and left her soda on the table as she hurried down the hall.

She was going to burst, she had to tell Claire. At the end of the hallway she skidded to a halt in front of Claire's door and quietly knocked in quick succession, not waiting for a response before opening the door and sliding into the dark room. Instantly brightened by the bedside lamp as Claire clicked it on and gazed narrowed eyed at Morgan.

"You have no idea how long my weekend has been," the disheveled blonde said slowly.

"Bryan kissed me," Morgan burst out quietly and Claire's eyes went wide in the same instance, pulling herself up on the bed.

"Sit," she slapped the mattress and Morgan smiled, hopping up on the end of her bed, "Spill."

The younger girl took a deep breath, giggling again before telling Claire about Bryan asking her to talk for a few minutes after cheerleading practice, to which the blonde interjected surprise that the young man offered to go out of his way, back to the school an hour after he was free from it for the day, Morgan hadn't considered that and smiled at the thought. When she told her friend about the altercation with Patrick in chemistry she couldn't help but notice the pleased smile creeping on Claire's face.

"I'm proud of you," she nodded, "seriously, good for you."

Morgan accepted her praise modesty, it hadn't taken much, she really was a snarky brat when she wanted to be and, apparently, it wasn't always inappropriate.

Claire also seemed to think it was cool that Bryan raced his car sometimes and asked Morgan if she thought he could get her into the bar he worked at, to which the younger girl reminded her that was the opposite of his job from what she understood. Then she got to the parking lot, despite the obvious blushing in Morgan's face, Claire demanded details. Her face hurt she was smiling so much, but she couldn't help it and the two girls giggled together, talking about the handsome young man and Morgan's first kiss until Dean called them for dinner.

Dean had made tacos and the smell still lingered through the hall and into their bedrooms well after dinner, it reminded her they were there because her oldest brother always cooked when they came home from a hunt. The bunker felt more like home, even while it was as silent as it had been every night without them, Morgan was comfortable knowing they were close and she was safe. She drifted off to sleep that night not worrying about the occasional creak or tiny thud, she was more than protected.

Sam and Dean were in the kitchen when Morgan walked in, dressed and ready, eager to see Bryan again. Her oldest brother pointed to the plate of bacon and eggs on the counter and she thanked him while pouring a cup of coffee, taking her mug and breakfast to the table. Sam was almost finished with his eggs and gave her a tightlipped smile when she sat across from him, Dean joined them a moment later.

"You got practice today?" Dean asked before shoving a large forkful of eggs in his mouth.

"Every day this week 'scept tomorrow," she told him.

"I'll pick y'up," Sam told her with a smirk at Dean.

"Awe," Morgan sighed sarcastically, "Sherri's gonna miss you."

Dean slowly turned to her with a blank expression and she couldn't help giggling, he cracked a smile and shook his head.

"Sammy can take on the cougar t'day," the oldest jerked his head at Sam.

"Cougar?" Morgan asked and both brothers chuckled.

"Never mind," Dean scoffed lightly.

"C'mon," she pleaded with Sam, he usually offered an explanation when Dean refused.

"It's, uh, somethin' people call older women who're into younger men," Sam informed her.

"Oh," Morgan said and couldn't help a little jab, turning to her oldest brother, "Are you considered a younger man?"

Dean dropped his fork loudly as Sam threw his head back with boisterous laughter and Morgan stifled a giggle as best she could. When Dean turned, however, his expression broke her already shaky countenance into a fit of amusement.

"Joking," she assured him through the end of her laughter, wiping tears from the corners of her eyes, "I'm so joking."

Dean was trying to hold back his own grin as he shook his head at the younger two, still chuckling together, "Watch y'rself, Brat."

A little while later, she and Dean were in the Impala leaving the tunnel and entering the bright morning sun. She'd missed the Impala, running her fingertips on the smooth leather, Morgan listened to the familiar cassette in the tape deck and stared out the passenger window.

"So," Dean began, "any boys try 'n ask y'to this dance yet?"

Morgan turned quickly at him, wondering if some how he'd found out about Patrick's invitation, but reminded herself she'd refused to go with him, "Uh, just one."

Dean nodded, she could tell, from the half of his expression she could see, that he wasn't thrilled at the news, "Just the one, huh? What'd y'tell him?"

"No," she shook her head adamantly, "I don't like him. He seemed nice at first, but, I don't know, he's just, not."

"What'd y'mean?" Dean's tone was lower and he glanced at her before looking back at the road.

"I don't know," she shrugged again, "he's just, kinda pushy 'n thinks he's like better than other people or somethin'."

Dean offered an understanding scoff, "Yeah, I know that guy."

"How?" her question came out as surprised as she felt at his words.

Dean chuckled and shook his head, "I mean every school has that guy, or a few," he told her and she breathed a sigh of relief, "Still talk t'pancake boy?"

Morgan couldn't stop the flush of color growing on her rising cheeks and looked out the window to hide the goofy expression, she knew it hadn't escaped her brother when she heard a low chuckle that ended with a little growl.

"He's nice, Dean," she assured him, "an' smart, he works two jobs, rebuilt his dad's car an'-"

"A'right, I don't need the kid's resume," Dean interjected, but his tone was light.

"Dean?" she said timidly, "If, uh, if someone, like a boy, did ask me t'the dance, y'know, who I might wanna go with, what, uh, what should I say?"

"Thought you were goin' with all the girls," he furrowed his brow a little, "Personally, I'm a fan of that idea."

Morgan smirked, thinking he wouldn't be if he knew the entire plan, "Yeah, I'm just sayin', y'know, if."

"If," Dean repeated, "then, uh, I guess we'd have t'talk about it."

She was unsurprised by his response and turned her head out the window before rolling her eyes.

As they pulled through the lot she stole a glance through Dean's window at Bryan's black coupe, parked in the back as usual, and noticed Dean couldn't help a quick look either. He pulled the rumbling sedan in front of the school, but a little further down from the main drop zone and Morgan grinned at him in appreciation.

"Have'a great day, Sweetie," he said, pulling her towards him by the back of her neck and planted a quick kiss on her hair.

"Thanks," she mumbled, shooting him a small smile before pushing the heavy door open with a creak.

Morgan made her way up the concrete steps, a little disheartened when she didn't see Bryan, and Kelly met her just inside the doors. Her eyes widened at Morgan and pulled her to walk with her towards their English class.

"Okay, what am I hearing about you and Bryan Elkins?" she hurried in a hushed voice.

"I don't know," Morgan smirked, "What are you hearing?"

Kelly gaped at her, "I thought you were going to homecoming with Patrick?"

"I changed my mind," she shrugged, "he's not a really nice guy if you haven't noticed."

"He's a starting lineman and our teams goin' t'state this year," Kelly informed her a little bitterly.

"Why don't you go with him?" Morgan scoffed and felt a pang of guilt at the pain in Kelly's face, clearly, she would've loved to accept the invitation Morgan had refused, thankfully, Mr. Carson's classroom approached quickly and she snuck inside with Kelly following a few moments later.

Kelly left the room before Morgan when their first period ended, but Morgan wasn't concerned about Kelly or her enthusiasm for Patrick, despite having to sit next to the football player next period, she also got to see Bryan. He was at the top of the stairs when she emerged in the three hundred wing and they smiled at each other.

"Hi," he grinned.

"Hi," Morgan felt her stomach fluttering and wished there wasn't dozens of other students swarming around them, she wanted him to kiss her again.

"Could, uh," he began, "could I stop by after practice f'r'a minute later?"

Morgan sighed and felt her shoulders sag, "My brother's pickin' me up."

"Never mind," he chuckled, "Well, uh, okay, then, look, I don't wanna give somebody else the chance t'ask y'again, 'n it's not really my thing, but, uh, if you'd wanna, I'd like to," the young man took a deep breath, "Will you go t'homecomin' with me?"

Morgan wanted to jump up and down, kiss him and scream all at the same time while she tried to suppress a huge smile into a grin. He'd asked her and it was a real question. A question that made her fluttering stomach squirm with concern, but she hoped Bryan would understand.

"Yes, I mean, I'd love to, I really would," she started and trailed away staring into his dark brown eyes.

"But," he prompted with a hesitant grin.

"I hafta ask," she admitted.

"So, maybe?" Bryan asked hopefully.

"Maybe," she confirmed with a small nod and large smile.

"I wanna kiss you so bad right now," he breathed a whisper after the last of the crowd had passed them and Morgan giggled in agreement.

Miss Ellet's class was thankfully a lecture and Morgan merely had to tolerate Patrick's presence next to her, lazily taking notes as she wrote nearly every word their teacher spoke. She could feel the tension between them, he occasionally shot a strange scowl at her, but Morgan only noticed it from instinct, she refused to glance in his direction, which was unfortunate because Bryan sat on the other side. He'd asked her and earlier Dean had said they'd talk about it, suddenly the idea of her and the handsome young man dancing together, dressed in formal attire, him kissing her again and maybe even a ride in his 'unbeatable' car started swirling in her mind. She was almost thankful to her Mother for a moment, as she robotically wrote Miss Ellet's words in her purple notebook and daydreamed about Bryan, a skill she'd honed over years over being abusively forced to multitask.

When the bell rang, Patrick was one of the first out the door, but Morgan and Bryan lingered at their tables.

"Y'eatin' lunch with Gina?" he asked, swinging his backpack on his shoulders.

"I think so," she told him, walking towards the door and following his gesture to go ahead of him into the hallway.

"She's a cool girl," he nodded.

"Yeah," Morgan agreed, "You guys've known each other a long time."

"A while," Bryan shrugged, "My Mom 'n I moved here when I was thirteen, her brother Joe 'n I hit it off 'n used t'hang out all the time."

"What happened?" she asked, oblivious to anyone else in the hallway but him.

"Life," he smirked, "he's workin' now 'n between school 'n both my jobs I don't really get a lotta free time."

"That's too bad," Morgan thought aloud sadly.

"Is what it is," he shrugged again, "Even if I get'a scholarship I still gotta have'a cushion, just in case."

"Scholarship?" she felt her eyebrows raise at the question.

"They give 'em f'r'more than football," he joked.

"I know," she scoffed lightly, "My brother went to Stanford on a full ride, he didn't play any sports."

Bryan stopped in his tracks and stared at her, "That's my dream school," he told her, "man, I'd love t'talk- wait, Sam 'r Dean?"

"Sam," she giggled at the relief on his face.

"He seems less threatening f'r'some reason," Bryan chuckled.

"He has his moments," Morgan smirked, thinking about her altercation with Sam recently and the sore bottom she'd ended up with afterwards.

"I'm applying there," he told her, "an' Berkeley 'n a few others, but Stanford's the one I'm hopin' for."

"What d'you wanna do?" she asked.

"Honestly?" he scoffed and she dropped her head with an expression of anticipation, "I wanna be James Bond," he chuckled, "I mean, it's not all like that, but I wanna do the bad ass detective work, catch the really bad guys, y'know, just-"

"Hero shit," she finished for him with a head shake.

"A little yeah," he grinned, "I don't talk about it with anybody, not really sure why I told you."

"I won't say anything," she assured him.

"I believe that," he nodded, "Y'r'different, there's somethin' about you, has been since I saw you at that gas station," she smiled shyly, "y'r'beautiful, yeah, jeezus are you, 'n y'r'insanely smart 'n really cool, but y'have this look, like you know what real troubles are, pain and how hard life can shit on ya," she couldn't help but glance at her boots, afraid her eyes would betray an admittance to his accusations, but she felt his finger gently tug her chin up to look at him, alone in the empty hallway outside the cafeteria, "I do too, you wouldn't believe some'a the things I could tell y'about my childhood, 'n I won't, but just know, I kinda get it."

Morgan couldn't help herself and lifted on her toes to kiss him while no one was around, Bryan took full advantage of the opportunity, pulling her into him with a strong hand as she ran her fingers through his short, brown hair. A few moments later the bell rang and they forced themselves apart, grudgingly, and continued the short walk into the cafeteria, earning a dirty look from one of the overseeing teacher by the doorway. Gina waved her over immediately and Bryan squeezed her hand quickly before joining his friends by the vending machines. Morgan felt heat travel from the affected hand to her cheeks and she knew she blushing as she approached the table.

"I love that boy," Gina said in a warning tone, "you best be good t'him."

"What? But, I," Morgan stammered and Gina cracked a grin, slapping the chair next to her in a gesture to sit that Morgan followed.

"I'm kidding," she smiled, "I mean, I'm not, but I'm happy for you guys."

"What?" Morgan glanced around at the grinning girls with confusion.

"You 'n Bryan," one of them began, "Didn't he meet you after pompoms yesterday?"

Morgan narrowed her eyes a bit at the sneer on the sport she was mostly enjoying, "So?"

They all giggled and Morgan felt herself blushing more.

"Did you kiss?" another one asked and Morgan couldn't help shift her eyes down, her face felt beet red and they all giggled happily.

"He is so hot," the dark-haired girl next to Morgan put her hand on her shoulder and leaned in, pretending to swoon, she reminded Morgan of Kelly in that moment.

"He's a great guy," Gina reiterated.

"I can see that," Morgan smiled, chancing a glance towards the vending machines, feeling another flutter in her stomach when Bryan looked over at her too.

Morgan's stomach flipped again when Bryan approached their table at the end of the lunch period, he said hi to all the girls and shared an inside joke with Gina before asking Morgan if he could walk her to class, an offer she had no intention of refusing. Sam was ahead of them in the hallway and reminded Morgan she hadn't even glanced at Patrick to see if he was scowling at her during lunch, she smiled up at the young man next to her, the one who'd been taking primary residence in her thoughts the last twenty-four hours. Bryan grinned back and slipped his fingers between hers, again she felt the heat from her hand crawling to her face as they walked down the hallway together. A few people seemed to notice and gave Bryan encouraging looks as they passed, her math classroom approached too quickly again and Bryan squeezed her hand before letting go.

"I'll see y'later," he assured her.

"Can't wait," she grinned and watched him continue down the hall, glancing back at her over his shoulder every few feet with a smile.

She couldn't believe how difficult it was to concentrate in her last classes of the day, hardly even noticing Mrs. Olin was out, substituted by a quiet, thin man who told them his name was Mr. Stoker and hardly anything else. Morgan thought he had less experience in gym than she did when he instructed them to walk the perimeter of the gymnasium for the entire class period. It did at least give Morgan and Gina time to talk as they walked around together.

"So, do you think y'r'brothers'll let you go?" the tall girl asked.

"I don't know," Morgan shrugged, "Sam might be able t'talk Dean into it, that's really all I can hope for."

"Sam's the younger one?" Gina confirmed.

"Yeah," she nodded, "he's slightly less of a hardass than Dean."

"Well I hope he can," her friend grinned, "but either way, it's gonna be a lotta fun."

"Are you goin' t'the game Friday?" Morgan asked.

"Yeah," Gina smirked, "can't miss you flashin' y'r'panties at everyone."

Morgan couldn't help sticking her tongue out at her through a stifled smile and they both giggled. They passed Mr. Stoker again, leaning against the wall outside Mrs. Olin's office, Morgan didn't like him, he gave her a strange feeling when they're eyes met. While chatting with her friend and walking in a huge circle around the gymnasium, she was careful to keep him in view as much as she could, disliking the way he continued to glower at the students, especially her. She was relieved when it was ten minutes to the end of school and one of the boys told Mr. Stoker they needed to change back into their street clothes, the man seemed annoyed when the student approached him, but nodded grudgingly and let the class file into the locker rooms. He was still leaning against the wall when Gina and Morgan left the changing room, the latter dressed in purple shorts, a t-shirt and her white cheerleading shoes. She was glad being on the team meant she had her own locker in the gym she could leave her clothes and shoes for both cheerleading and gym class in, though it was a bit further away from Gina's locker than she liked.

"Hey," Shannon smiled as she entered the gym door Morgan and Gina were walking out of, "you're not leavin'?"

"I'll be right back," Morgan assured her, peering down the hallway and seeing Bryan where she'd stopped him the previous Friday, "I just gotta-"

Shannon followed her eyes and smirked, "Yeah, I'll see y'in a minute, and uh, f'r'what it's worth, I think Patrick's a piece'a shit 'n I'm glad y'r'not goin' with him."

Morgan smiled in appreciation of Shannon's words as the cheerleading captain slipped into the gymnasium and she turned towards Bryan. He was already approaching her, his dark brown eyes staring longingly at her as they met in the emptying hall. Morgan took a deep breath as the space between them shrank to a few inches, he smelled so good.

"I guess I'll see y'tomorrow," he smirked.

"Guess so," she shrugged, staring up at him in anticipation as he shifted his gaze around the large hall and watched the last few students exit through the front door before turning back to her and quickly leaning in for a kiss when the coast was clear.

Morgan loved his hand on the small of her back, his soft lips against hers and the occasional flick of his tongue. The sound of giggling made them stop and see a few of the cheerleaders pass into the gym, Morgan blushed as they smiled at her and one winked, Kelly however, followed them in pretending she hadn't seen the kissing pair. Bryan chuckled when they were alone again, shaking his head and Morgan saw his ears were a light shade of pink.

"A'right," he smirked, "I'll let'cha get t'practice."

"I wish you wouldn't," she giggled lightly and he pulled her chin up gently and kissed her again.

It was shorter lived, and he smiled down at her planting a kiss on her forehead and assured her he'd wait by the front doors the next morning before walking down the empty hall and she entered the gymnasium again. Only her brothers had ever kissed her forehead, but Bryan's caring peck had left her with a much different feeling.

Shannon started their practice with stretches and a few warm-ups, continuing to shift her gaze at Sherri and then the open door of Mrs. Olin's office where Mr. Stoker was sitting. Finally, Sherri approached the door and the team listened as she asked the man if he was planning to leave.

"I'm fine here," they heard his deep voice tell her.

"I'm sure," Sherri continued, "but we don't normally have teachers, or men, observe practice."

"Am I not allowed to be in the office of the teacher I'm substituting for?" his steely voice was unsettling.

"Of course," the coach shook her head, "but school is over 'n these kids are working on their homecoming routine."

"Am I in the way?" he asked slowly.

"No, just," Sherri tried again, but sighed in frustration, "I'll be speaking to Principal Morris, I'm sure she can explain the protocol and considerations the faculty and sports coaches typically show each other."

"I look forward to it," Mr. Stoker told her pointedly.

Sherri shook her head at Shannon as she returned to their group and the captain scowled at the open office door. Morgan caught a few glimpses of Mr. Stoker throughout practice, but tried to ignore his glowering, pale eyes from his seat behind Mrs. Olin's desk. He was still sitting quietly, just staring into the gymnasium, when the team entered the locker rooms to change, but was thankfully gone when Morgan emerged in her street clothes with Shannon and Heather.

"So have you found a dress yet?" Heather inquired on their way down the hall.

"Not yet," Morgan shrugged.

"Well short's in this year," she told her and Sherri nodded behind her daughter in agreement.

"Do you wanna go to the mall after school tomorrow?" Shannon asked.

"I, uh," Morgan blushed a little, unable to find an excuse, "I can't, I mean, I, uh, I'm kinda grounded 'til Thursday night."

"Shitty," Heather sighed, "What'd you do?"

"Speeding," she shrugged.

"Is that why you haven't been drivin' the Mustang the last couple days?" Shannon assumed and Morgan nodded, "Well that sucks. Seriously, your brothers ground you?"

Morgan blushed a little thinking if only that was the full extent of their disciplining tactics, but shrugged in response, "Yeah, well, not really anybody else around to."

Shannon and Heather gave her sad glances and Sherri nodded sympathetically before an absent grin took over her expression outside the door.

"Is that the other one?" the woman crooned and Morgan did her best to hold back an eyeroll, forcing herself to nod.

Sam leaned against the driver's door of the Impala in the front of the parking lot, right next to Sherri's SUV, and she grinned at him, shaking her head slightly at the smirk he responded with and knew he was having a little fun. Morgan wondered briefly why she was so forgiving of Sam for the same things she would be incredulous at Dean for doing. She descended the stairs a few steps ahead of the group, hoping to avoid getting linked by Kelly and Heather again, but then Morgan remembered Kelly seemed to be avoiding her, not that she minded terribly. Sam smiled as she approached gesturing for her bag as he opened the rear driver's door.

"Well don't good looks run in the family," Sherri smiled, unlocking her SUV with a button on the key and Morgan saw Heather roll her eyes behind her Mom.

She saw her brother smirk uncomfortably and stifled a giggle thinking he brought it on himself by getting out of the Impala.

"Sam Winchester," he forced a grin and shook Sherri's hand.

"Charmed I'm sure," she raised her eyebrows at him slightly and Sam cleared his throat as he pulled his hand back, "I'm Morgan's coach Sherri, I understand both you and your brother will be at Friday's game."

"Yeah, uh," Sam nodded, "that's the plan."

"Hey, Mom can we go?" Heather asked from the other side of the huge black hood, "I gotta a crap ton of homework."

"Yeah, sweetheart," Sherri called such a sweet voice it sounded fake, never taking her eyes off Sam, "Well, if I don't see you before then," she raised her eyebrows again and made a funny motion with her lips.

Sam cleared his throat harder and gave Morgan a little push towards the passenger side, "Hopefully we'll see y'Friday, it was'a nice t'meet'cha," he hurried his words similar to how Dean had and waved awkwardly before dropping behind the wheel.

After a few moments, and a good distance of parking lot, Morgan broke into a wild giggle, instigated further by his still slightly blushing grin.

"Well she's, uh, somethin'," he chuckled finally and Morgan laughed harder for a moment before composing herself.

"Yeah," she agreed, "somethin'."

"Anything interestin' happen today?" Sam asked, turning onto the country road out of town.

Morgan's stomach squirmed thinking of all the interesting things that had happened at school, "Not really."

"Nothin'?" he pushed.

"I mean, we had a sub in gym class," she shrugged, "He had us walk around the gym the whole period."

"Seriously?" Sam scoffed and she nodded, "Dean was a better gym sub than that."

"Dean subbed gym?" she stared at him blankly.

"Once," he shrugged.

"Of course he did," Morgan nodded slowly, at this point, nothing her brothers had done could surprise her anymore.

Sam cruised to the bunker around sixty-four miles per hour, which Morgan silently resented, there was hardly a difference in three miles and he was certainly exceeding the speed limit. He slowed down as the tunnel came into view, flipping on the headlights and taking the familiar turns back to the garage, the heavy, wooden doors were shut as they approached. Sam pulled to a stop and sighed, glancing at Morgan, back at the doors and then at his sister again.

"Can you pull her in slow?" he asked with a serious expression.

"Yes," she told him immediately, slightly concerned that she'd only driven the Impala once, and badly, but was determined to make the twenty-foot trip seamless.

Sam nodded and got out of the car as Morgan slid into his warm spot on the leather behind the wheel and found the bar under the seat to pull the bench forward. With her foot comfortably resting on the pedal without a passenger's legs to worry about, Morgan waited as Sam pulled the giant doors open and waved her into the bright garage. Taking a deep breath, she gently depressed the accelerator, careful to keep the same pressure as she continued, feeling the engine rumble a bit louder and finally edging forward at an incredibly slow pace. Sam grinned at her as she passed and pulled to a stop next to the Mustang, it had been washed and shone brighter than usual. After throwing the shifter in park she turned the engine off, but the key wouldn't come out and she heard Sam chuckle as he opened the driver's door.

"She's funny," he told her, jerking his head for her to get out and leaning in to jiggled the keys from the ignition after she'd moved.

As soon as they got to the end of the hall to the garage, it was obvious something was wrong, Dean was yelling in the library and though Sam pulled her behind himself, Morgan followed him through the other corridors towards the open room as Dean's words got clearer.

"-I'm not kiddin' you feathered fuck, so help me you've pulled some messed up shit, but t'come in here when she's alone and sleeping?! I owe you a serious fuckin' beat down next time I see you, and I will see you," the oldest growled and the younger two slowed their approach in the hallway before the open room, "Call- me- back-, I wanna hear from you what the hell is goin' on. Don't make me find you, Cas, 'cause you know I will."

Sam glanced at Morgan and they mutually understood this would not be mentioned, then entered the open room nonchalantly. Dean was in the library, pouring over the list of possibly vampire victims, his phone to the side of the table, when the younger two hopped up the stairs to join him.

"Hey," he grumbled at them before returning his attention to his work.

"Hey," Sam and Morgan answered together, Dean swung his chair out to face them.

"So, I think I gotta couple more leads on where the vampires might be headin' next," the oldest informed his brother.

"Yeah? Where're we goin'?" Sam flipped a chair around at the other table and straddled one long leg on either side.

"East coast," Dean told him, "Figured we'll get'a plan together tomorrow 'n head out first thing Thursday."

Morgan felt her stomach drop, but refused to let her face betray the sadness she experienced at those words, Dean must've forgotten about the game and finding the would-be victims was far more important than a cheerleading routine.

"Can it be after this weekend?" Sam gave his brother an urging expression that completely escaped the oldest.

"Why?" Dean scoffed, "We gotta get on this, Sammy, they might not have the weekend."

"I'm gonna get some homework done," Morgan interjected quietly, hardly looking at either of them as she slipped down the stairs and into the hallway quickly, she heard Sam imploring loudly at Dean but rushed to her room, knowing what he would be saying anyway.

She swallowed hard a few times, refusing to let the sting of tears or tightness in her throat take over, she would not cry. Her brothers were important men, she knew she couldn't expect them to put her before the well-being of dozens of others and would never ask that they did. Still, it was disheartening, as they were the only people she'd really wanted to see the routine she'd worked so hard to perfect, but she couldn't be mad that they had to do their jobs. Morgan slumped on her bed, unzipping her backpack and pulling her homework onto her lap, swiping the screen on her phone until rock music started playing quietly out of the Bluetooth speaker on her dresser before starting her first assignment. She'd barely finished the second of five math problems when a hard rap sounded on her door.

"Yeah, Dean," she said, and the door creaked open as her oldest brother stepped into the room.

"How'd y'know it was me?" he smirked.

"You knock the loudest," she told him, setting her notebook and math text to the side as he sat on the edge of her bed with an apologetic expression.

"I forgot about the game," he admitted.

"I figured," she shrugged, "it's okay."

"No, it's not," he shook his head, "Dad used t'do crap like this and it, uh, well it kinda hurt, 'n I'm really sorry."

"I know you guys have important stuff t'do," she began understandingly, "seriously, it's not a big deal."

"Well, Sam's callin' some other hunters t'see if they can make the trip instead," Dean shrugged.

"What?!" Morgan felt her stomach twist with guilt.

"Sweetie," Dean chuckled, putting a hand on her knee, "they're more than capable of this, it's a milk run."

"But," she began and he squeezed her knee gently.

"Relax," he insisted, "it's gonna get handled, one way 'r the other. If I can, I'd like t'make it t'that game on Friday."

"Well Sherri will be very disappointed if the two of you aren't there," Morgan smirked.

"We can't have that," Dean smiled, lowering his gaze on her seriously, "It's fine, as long as somebody else has the time, it's really not something that requires the A team."

"S'that you 'n Sam?" she giggled?

"Have y'met us?" he joked and they both laughed.

"Well," Morgan sighed with honesty, "I'd really like t'have you two there if you can be."

"That's the plan, kid," he smirked and she smiled back at him, Dean wasn't perfect and she didn't expect him to be, but it was nice when he understood that he'd screwed up and admitted it, "I'm gonna start dinner. What're y'thinking?"

"No preference," she shrugged, pulling her math homework back on her lap as he stood to his full height.

Morgan smiled as he shut her door, hopeful another hunter could take on the rescue mission, but simply content her oldest brother had apologized for having forgotten something that was important to her. She finished the complicated math equations quickly, continuing a worksheet for history she'd nearly completed before class ended, astounded her responses weren't randomly peppered with Bryan's name as he'd been the major focus of her thoughts the entire afternoon.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Kudos? Review? Perhaps you'd like to launch rotten cyber vegetables at me...


	16. Chapter 16

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> There seems to be something weird going on at school and Dean's on the edge between the vampire uprising and his best friend's random disappearance

Dean yelled that dinner was ready from the kitchen, he was pulling pizzas from the oven as she walked in and grabbed a soda from the refrigerator. Claire was leaning towards Sam as they hurried their eyes back and forth on the laptop screen, neither noticing when Morgan sat across from them and cracked her drink can. She was used to them being absorbed in Sam's laptop, and shook her head when neither heard Dean ask that the computer be put away, twice. The oldest set a hot pizza in the middle of the table and pushed the screen shut, effectively gaining both Sam and Claire's attention immediately.

"Dude!" Sam yelled incredulously.

"Asked nicely twice, Sammy," Dean smirked, getting the second pizza from the counter.

"Yeah, well, I'm not a little kid," Sam scoffed, standing and holding his laptop to his side, "What if I was in the middle of runnin' a program f'r'a hunt?"

"Were you?" Dean raised his eyebrows.

"That's not the point, Dean!" Sam barked and Morgan rolled her eyes at Claire, though she was scowling at the oldest, Sam could do a wonderful impression of a petulant child when he wanted, "Don't touch my laptop."

"Then listen when I ask you t'put it away," the oldest said pointedly.

"I'm not a child!" the younger yelled bitterly.

"Then stop actin' like it!" Dean challenged, nearly tossing the second pizza next to the first and both girls leaned back to avoid splatters of hot sauce.

"Whatever," Sam scowled and stalked out of the kitchen, "I'm not even hungry."

"Yeah, that's super mature!" Dean called after him, Morgan and Claire stared awkwardly at each other.

Dean shook his head as he joined the girls at the table and Morgan pushed her chair back to grab the stack of plates off the counter he'd forgotten in the altercation, keeping Sam's stacked under hers, she slid a few slices onto her plate. She'd hoped with Claire, and hopefully Sam, as backup she could've brought up Bryan's invitation to the dance, but knew the atmosphere in the kitchen after the younger brother's storm off was not conducive to gaining the response she hoped for.

"Claire," Dean began in a low tone, "I'm still waitin' on your breakdown'a last weekend."

"It wasn't even a hunt!" the blonde implored angrily and Morgan couldn't help but look away from Dean's glower, even if it wasn't directed at her, Claire however, stared right back.

"Y'wanna turn three pages into five?" he growled.

"This is bullshit!" she slammed a fist on the table, clattering the plates as they settled back on the surface.

"Five then," Dean told her in a scary calm tone, "Keep goin' 'n you'll be sittin' on a sore ass while y'do it."

"Fuck this," she breathed under her breath, but not very quietly, while pushing her chair roughly from the table and storming towards the hallway.

Morgan's eyes widened at the look she saw flash over Dean's face before he jumped to his feet, grabbed Claire by the upper arm and landed a sharp swat on her behind, turning her back towards himself as she obviously held back tears and rage.

"You storm outta here I'm gonna follow you 'n y'r'gonna get a whole lot more'a that," his threat made the hair on the back of Morgan's neck stand up as she quickly shoved pizza in her mouth.

"Try it," Claire spit and the younger girl squeezed her eyes tightly, wishing her friend would learn to stop challenging her brother, especially on things he'd already proven he had no problem accomplishing.

The yelling she heard from Claire while Dean dragged her down the hallway by the arm told Morgan the older girl had realized her mistake too late as she tried to plead with him, her bedroom door slammed a few moments later. Claire's room was at the end of the hall, not as close to the kitchen as Morgan's was, so when the first biting crack sounded all the way to the table, followed by an agonizing cry, she blushed with embarrassment while feeling pity for her friend, she didn't realize how much that sound carried in the bunker. Morgan wondered if Claire had sat in the kitchen before trying to ignore the sounds of Dean, or more recently Sam, punishing her, knowing of course she had and appreciated her friend never said anything. Several more cracking swats echoed into the kitchen and Morgan cringed at the blood curdling squeal, the smacking sounded louder and she knew Claire had lost the protection of her jeans.

Finishing her last bite of pizza as she stood to clear her plate, Morgan tried to block out her friend's cries, sliding four pieces of pizza onto the clean plate under the one she'd cleared. In the hallway it was even louder, she could hear Claire begging him to stop, apologizing and promising to do her report right away if he would only stop. The younger girl knew he would only stop when he was sure he'd made his point, plus a few for good measure when he'd finally reached that. Morgan stopped outside Sam's closed bedroom door and knocked, slipping in quickly when he said 'yeah', closing the door again to muffle the sound of Claire's spanking.

"Hey, I, uh," Morgan lifted the plate at her brother lounging on his bed looking over his book at her.

"Thanks, Sweetie," he smiled, pushing himself into a sitting position and taking the plate she offered, digging in immediately, "What'd Claire do?"

"Insubordination," Morgan rolled her eyes.

"Well I kinda wound 'im up," Sam smirked, "An' since he can't beat my ass anymore."

"Anymore?" Morgan scoffed, flipping around his desk chair and straddling it towards Sam, who shrugged, but the color creeping on his cheeks was betrayal enough and she gasped before giggling, "Dean spanked you?!"

"Once!" Sam snapped in a hushed tone and Morgan couldn't help a smile, "Like a hundred years ago, it was stupid then 'n it was a hell'uva lot harsher than what you two've gotten."

"What'd you do?" Morgan almost sang at him, swaying a little on the seat.

"Stole the Impala," he shrugged, unable to hide a small smirk.

"Well y'had t'know that was comin'," she shook her head at him.

"Figured I had a couple weeks at least 'til Dad got back," he reasoned, "but then he told Dean t'just, handle it."

"How old were you?" his sister asked.

"Sixteen," Sam told her, taking a huge bite of his second slice after inhaling the first.

"Why?" Morgan inclined her head at him, it was kind of nice knowing she wasn't the only sixteen-year-old Winchester to get their ass handed to them by their older brother.

"Girl," he smiled after a hard swallow and she shook her head, giggling at him.

"Hey, uh, Sam?" his defenses were down and with the offering of secret pizza being demolished, Morgan hoped it wasn't a mistake as she continued, "I kinda asked Dean, like, what I should say, y'know, if a guy asked me to the dance."

Sam nodded, "I know, he told me somebody already asked you 'n you said no."

"Patrick," Morgan scoffed, shaking her head in brief disgust.

"Y'r'lab partner?" he asked and she blinked in surprise at his exemplary memory, he'd seen the football player after her first day of school for perhaps a second and a half.

"Yeah," she nodded, "he's a douche."

"Everything okay?" Sam lowered his gaze at her and set the slice he was eating back on the plate.

"Yeah," she scoffed, "it's not a big deal, I just try not t'talk t'him."

"Does being partners in chemistry make that difficult?" Sam furrowed his brow.

"I'll deal," she shrugged, "it's just one class."

"Well that's obviously not who you have in mind while pokin' f'r'hypothetical answers about goin' t'homecoming with a date," her brother smirked knowingly and Morgan couldn't help a confessing smile as her cheeks blushed, "Is it the kid from the pancake joint?"

"Bryan," she almost whispered his name and knew the massive increase in her smile did not go unnoticed by Sam, though refused to look away from a cross-section of tile flooring.

"That one," her brother chuckled and she chanced a look at him through her long eyelashes, "Did he ask you?" she nodded slowly and saw Sam sigh, "What'd you tell him?"

"That I had t'ask," she shrugged and saw her brother's eyebrows raise in surprise.

"Really? I mean, good, uh," Sam stammered before grinning at her, "Y'wanna go with him?"

"A lot," she nodded eagerly.

"Well let's wait f'r'Sargent Psycho t'calm down before bringin' it up," he scoffed lightly and Morgan swung off the chair to tackle her wonderful, understanding, gracious brother in a bearhug, thankfully his reflexes were also fantastic as he managed to set the plate on the desk a moment before.

"You're the best," she kissed his cheek and let him return to his pizza, but set the chair under the desk instead of sitting down, "Hey, uh, where'd you get that Sargent Psycho thing?"

"You 'n Claire aren't always as stealthy as y'think y'are," he chuckled, shoving the last half of his fourth slice in his mouth at once.

"Wow," she scoffed, "I'll remember this next time you witness one'a Dean 'n my waffle races."

"Sat's im bublic," Sam forced through a very full mouth.

"Very attractive," Morgan winked and giggled at him as he chewed faster, "Wan'me t'take that?"

"I got it," he shook his head at her offer to clear his plate and set it on the desk as he stood, "Thanks."

"You did it f'r'me," she smiled, "thanks f'r'uh, y'know."

"I think I might," he chuckled, pulling her into his arms, "If you like him I'm sure he's not a bad guy."

"He's great," she mumbled into his shirt and felt Sam sigh as he rested his chin on her head.

The hallway was quiet when Morgan snuck to her bedroom, she wasn't sure where Dean went, but was fairly certain Claire was behind the closed door at the end of the corridor, crying face down on her bed. She was familiar enough with the position after the few experiences she'd had over her brothers' knees and it didn't take much imagination to understand how her friend was feeling at that moment. Though Claire was always far less complacent, often digging her heels in simply out of pride, whereas Morgan thought her brothers were fair, mostly.

The next morning Dean drove her to school again, he'd insisted on it saying he needed to make a few stops in town and Morgan didn't argue, she didn't see Claire before they left. Despite her obviously distracted and irritated older brother in the driver's seat, she was still bouncing inside with excitement at seeing Bryan where he'd promised to be, on the steps in front of the school. Morgan smiled, averting her eyes to the space between the door and the seat when she saw the young man was indeed good on his word. Dean pulled a bit further down from the drop zone again and raised an eyebrow at her when he stopped.

"Be good," he said curtly.

"What'd I do?" Morgan scoffed, her hand on the handle and her foot ready to kick the door open.

"What did you do?" Dean asked, his eyes still hard on her.

"Nothing," she implored, feeling her throat tighten and tears stinging threateningly in her eyes.

"Better keep it that way," he demanded.

"Yes, sir," she narrowed her eyes and said each word slow and deliberately, then pushed the door open and shut it just slightly harder than she needed to, ensuring it latched.

Of course, it was too good to hope that her brother could be reasonable, even understanding, for longer than one rare, brief moment at a time. Trying to shake off the feeling Dean had left her with, Morgan took a deep breath and started towards the steps, having no trouble finding her smile again when Bryan descended the bottom stair. When the engine didn't growl, she turned to see the Impala slowly pulling from the curb and met a matching set of eyes in the rearview mirror. Bryan approached her as Dean pulled out of the lot and accelerated loudly onto the country road.

"Does he do that to intimidate me 'r turn me on?" Bryan chuckled, "I'll be honest, it's a little'a both."

"Trust me," she giggled, allowing him to slip his fingers in hers, "that wasn't f'r'you."

Bryan walked with her part of the way towards her English class, Morgan hardly even noticed the glares she received from Patrick and Kelly when they'd passed. The young man she was focused on squeezed her hand before letting it go with a grin that said he wished he hadn't had to.

"I'll see you in chemistry," he said, slowly walking away as she nodded in agreement and nearly stepped into Billy the Kid as she turned.

"Sorry, Billy," Morgan hurried her concern, but the young man smiled while keeping his focus near their feet.

"S'fine, Morgan," he assured her and turned down the hall, "Bryan, wait up!"

"C'mon, Bill, le's go," Bryan waved an arm and waited for Billy to catch up before giving Morgan one last smile and heading down the hall, listening intently to his new companion.

Morgan wondered as she walked into Mr. Carson's classroom, if Bryan had a soft spot for Billy because he shared his name with the former's deceased father, then shook her head of the insensitive consideration of why anyone would name their child 'Bill'. His kindness to Billy was simply because Bryan was a good person, he had a good heart and she could see that, his aspirations in life were not farfetched, he'd make a good hero.

She still had Bryan on her mind when she saw him at the top of the stairs in the three hundred wing the next passing period, a bit thankful Kelly was continuing to avoid her, though unsure why she was garnering nasty looks from the blonde. Bryan pulled her into a corner, away from traffic, so they were out of the way as they tried to find things to say while wishing they could be kissing.

"So there's no chance you may've talked to y'r'brothers about this weekend?" he grinned tentatively.

"Sam's good with it," she smiled and it became a smirk as she shrugged, "Dean was in a mood, but if Sam's in that's like sixty-five, seventy percent'a the way there."

"I'll stay hopeful then," he raised his eyebrows and she felt heat creeping on her face.

He opened the door for her and Morgan noticed right away there was something different. Everyone was sitting in their seats, even though the bell hadn't rung yet, even Patrick who usually sat on the table joking with his buddies until Miss Ellet told them all to settle down. Miss Ellet wasn't at her desk, it was a dark-haired, severe looking woman, she looked to be in her mid-thirties, but the eyes she set Morgan and Bryan with seemed wiser than only a few decades of sight. Without being told, they took their seats, glancing warily at each other before the lumbering mound that was Patrick blocked their view.

"I am Ms. Rice," the woman informed them only a second after the bell rang, pulling an old retractable periodic table over the white board, "Miss Ellet is ill, I will be subbing for her until she returns. You will copy this for the class period, there will be no need to talk."

A few students mumbled to each other, but most simply looked around confused, giving one another blankly assuring expressions that they had also heard the odd instructions. A girl at the front of the room raised her hand, Ms. Rice could not have looked at her with more disgust if she'd actually climbed out of sewage.

"I'm sorry, Ms. Rice," she began timidly, "What do you mean copy it?"

The woman smirked meanly, pointing to the girl's open notebook, "Could you draw a square there for me?" the girl's head dipped as she did as she was asked, "Good, okay see those big letters and then the small letters and the numbers? Put all those in the box like they are on that one, there y'go."

By the time Ms. Rice had finished making sure the girl would never ask a question again for the rest of her life, Morgan had nearly finished copying the first column of elements. Replicating a chart for no reason was something she could do in her sleep, allowing herself to wonder why she was experiencing her second substitute teacher in two days. Morgan may not have been in school long, but it seemed more than strange that two of her teachers would be out sick in the same week, perhaps she was just being paranoid.

The harsh substitute seemed to keep her eyes on Morgan as she walked with Bryan into the hallway when the excruciatingly long class ended. She felt warmth spreading from her fingers again as he slipped his between hers and smiled back at his shy grin.

"Is it weird t'have two subs in a week?" she asked, hoping to alleviate her paranoia.

"Kinda," he shrugged, "Who else is out?"

"Mrs. Olin," she told him, "Don't you have her for gym?"

"Weight lifting with Mr. McCarthy, football coach," he informed her, Morgan didn't realize that was an option but was unsurprised, glancing at his t-shirt sleeve conformed around a muscular bicep.

"She wasn't here yesterday," Morgan continued, "an' the new teacher, Mr. Stoker, was sort'a weird, he didn't even leave while we were having cheerleading practice."

"Really?" Bryan narrowed his eyes at her, "Didn't y'r'coach say somethin'?"

"Yeah," she scoffed, "he was kinda rude 'n still didn't leave."

"That's messed up," Bryan didn't seem to be speaking to her anymore, staring over her head in a perfect impression of her brothers when they were thinking aloud and Morgan waited while his focus came back to her, "Do you have practice later?"

"Not today," she shook her head and he nodded curtly, leading her into the cafeteria.

Morgan joined Gina and her friends at their normal table, experiencing a flutter of excitement when Bryan ran his hand across her lower back as he left to join Franky near the vending machines. The conversation between the girls quickly turned to the substitute gym teacher, Morgan was relieved she wasn't the only one he gave the creeps, but it didn't make her feel any better about seeing the strange man again in a few hours.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Can I get a kudos? Pweeaaasse?


	17. Chapter 17

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Warning for a fairly mild spanking scene but I also want to warn anyone it might bother, but there's a moment in this chapter Morgan is briefly assaulted by everyone's favorite football player (forced kissing and grabbing is the extent of it)
> 
> Also actual plot stuff happens too...

Morgan cleared her tray and turned towards the table again, but caught Patrick's gaze and tried to offer him a weak smile, returned with a sneer from the young man. If she hadn't spent the majority of her life dealing with hatred and ridicule, Morgan might've cared that Patrick, and a few of his friends, had been shooting dirty looks at her since telling the overly confident young man she wouldn't be joining him at the dance. As it was, she simply set her eyes on Bryan, gaining a wide smile that instigated one on her own face, before rejoining Gina and their friends at the table. Her quick glance was enough to pull Bryan from his table of friends a few moments before other students starting getting their bags together for the next class period.

"I'll see you in gym," Gina grinned at her and Bryan before the pair left the cafeteria hand in hand.

With the handsome young man on her mind while trying to pay attention to her afternoon classes, Morgan nearly forgot about the strange substitute waiting in the gym. He was leaning against the same wall outside Mrs. Olin's office when she and Gina walked through the doors together, both avoiding his hard gaze as they hurried into the locker room. Again, the class was doomed to walking around the perimeter of the gymnasium as Mr. Stoker observed silently.

The last ten minutes of school couldn't have taken longer if it had been a literal year, Morgan thought, while she and Gina left the locker room dressed, walking out the gymnasium doors as the bell rang, Mr. Stoker leaned against the wall watching them leave. She hoped it was Sam picking her up, she wanted to tell him about the strange substitute teachers, if he didn't seem to think it was a big deal she'd be less concerned about the coincidence. Pushing her anxiety aside for a moment, Morgan smiled when Bryan turned the corner at the end of the hall near the front doors.

"Hey, beautiful," he grinned as she and Gina approached, Bryan blushed a little noticing the tall girl, "uh, hey Gina."

"Hi loverboy," she giggled, nudging Morgan gently with a scrawny elbow, "I'll see you two later."

Morgan smiled, appreciating her friend knew the precise moment to exit the conversation and didn't seem remotely offended as she departed.

"So how was gym?" Bryan raised his eyebrows at her.

"Pretty much the same," she shrugged.

He nodded slowly, "Well, I guess Mrs. Morris is out too."

Morgan felt her stomach squirm a bit at that information, but tried to keep her expression neutral, afraid Bryan would question her paranoia, "Must be somethin' goin' around."

"Yeah," he thought aloud, looking over her head again for a moment before bringing his focus back to her, "must be."

Bryan held the door as Morgan walked through and glanced around the parking lot and cars lined in the drop zone for the Impala, it wasn't exactly difficult to miss. After a third, thorough sweep of the area, Morgan was sure the muscle car was nowhere on the premises. She followed Bryan down the steps, but hopped up on the half wall at the bottom of the stairs as he took a few steps towards the lot, stopping quickly when she didn't follow.

"I forgot you don't have y'r'car," he grimaced apologetically.

"S'not my car," she shrugged, "One'a my brothers is comin'."

"I'll wait with you," he sat on the half wall, simply lifting his toes unlike the effort she'd had to put in to reach the flat, brick surface.

"You don't have to," Morgan grinned, hoping he'd stay anyway.

"I know," he nodded, returning her smile.

They chatted briefly with a few other students who were on their way out, but the Impala didn't rumble into the lot. Between the strange substitutes, Castiel's uncharacteristic thievery and disappearance, and her brothers' not being there to pick her up, Morgan felt her stomach swirling with concern. She pulled her phone out as Bryan was saying good-bye to Franky, nearly the entire school had departed and the screen showed it was almost a quarter after three, swiping it open, she dialed Sam first. Reaching voicemail immediately, Morgan sighed in frustration before hitting Dean's name and holding the phone to her ear.

"Yeah?" he answered on the second ring.

"Where are you?" she asked quickly, relieved he was obviously fine, but bitter she'd clearly been forgotten.

"At home," he said simply, "Why aren't you in practice?"

"I don't have practice today," she sighed, "I told you that."

"When?" Dean scoffed.

"All week!" Morgan insisted, "And on the way t'school this morning."

"Shit," she heard him mumble, "I'll be there in ten minutes. Sorry, kid."

"I'll be here," she told him, hanging up the phone, ignoring his apology, knowing they were empty words.

"All good?" Bryan smirked as she took a deep breath.

"Yeah," she nodded, "guess he thought I had practice, Dean's on his way."

"So I should prob'ly leave soon?" he chuckled and Morgan giggled.

He didn't leave though and, when they were quite alone in front of the school, stole a few kisses in the solitude. Though he slid over a bit, sitting further apart than she liked on the brick half wall just before the Impala growled through the lot and up to the curb. Morgan hopped down as Bryan stood and she tried to mentally urge her brother to stay in the car, he did not however get the message.

"Hey," Dean smirked, "I got caught up, m'sorry."

"It's fine," she shrugged, grinning at the handsome young man swinging his backpack on his shoulders, "I'll see you tomorrow."

"I'll be here," he smiled, though turned towards Dean with a more serious expression and nodded curtly, "Sir."

"Hey, kid," Dean nodded back, "thanks for waitin' with her."

"Not a problem," Bryan told him, chancing one more smile at Morgan before moving around the back of the Impala towards his coupe, one of the only cars left in the lot.

"S'that an eighty-seven?" Dean jerked his head towards the black Buick.

"Yes, sir," Bryan smirked proudly.

Dean nodded at him and got back behind the wheel as the young man continued towards his car, Morgan watched him walk away while slowly pulling the passenger door open.

"C'mon," her brother urged, "I gotta get back."

"Well, if I had the Mustang this wouldn't," Morgan's words slowly trailed away at the look she received from her brother.

"Y'wanna add another week without it?" Dean growled.

Morgan shook her head, biting back a snarky retort about being impressed if they stayed in town another week, feeling her throat tighten and she looked out the window, afraid of him seeing the tears that were threatening to fall. The vampire uprising and Castiel's strange actions had him in a near constant brooding state since they'd gotten home, but Morgan wished he wouldn't jump immediately to threatening consequences. Sometimes he'd joke when he was reprimanding, perhaps it wasn't always as effective, but she missed when he'd at least try to start lightheartedly. Morgan wished Sam had picked her up, she wasn't sure how Dean would react to the information about the substitutes, but she really didn't want to talk to him anyway. The Mustang wasn't parked in its usual spot when they pulled through the heavy doors, Dean had unlocked and pushed open, then returned to the driver's seat of the Impala.

"Where's Sam?" Morgan asked, only after realizing she'd finally broken the silence between them, badly.

"Workin'," he grumbled, throwing the shifter in park and pushing the heavy door open without further explanation.

Claire was in the library when they entered, throwing Morgan a pleading look she understood as a silent request to join her at the table. Besides the sound of Claire typing on Sam's laptop, the library was silent while Dean and the girls focused on their own projects, awkwardly avoiding conversation in the heavy tension. At 5:30 though, he relieved them of his presence to start dinner.

"Where's Sam?" Morgan asked again, though hoping for a more detailed response from Claire.

"Lawrence," Claire answered in the same hushed tone, "tryin' t'get more info on Elkins, seems the son lived there."

"William or his son?" she wondered quietly.

"Well both seein' as the kid prob'ly lived with him," Claire rolled her eyes.

"That's where Sam 'n Dean are from," the younger shook her head at the strangeness.

"And that psychic, Missouri," the blonde reminded, "we don't think they moved there 'till like early two-thousands, but they haven't been there for a few years, Sam managed to track down the apartment they used t'rent 'n went t'talk with the landlord."

"When?" Morgan sighed, knowing Lawrence was a two-hour drive.

"He left right after you guys," Claire shrugged, "said he'd be home t'night."

Morgan sighed with relief and looked longingly at the hallway leading to the garage, wishing Sam would appear. He didn't show up, however, until they were halfway through dinner, and walked in wearing his dark blue suit, the diagonally striped tie pulled into a loose knot away from his collar. He didn't say much more than mumble greetings at them as he grabbed a plate, but Morgan caught his eye and returned a tightlipped grin.

She excused herself with Claire, urging her friend to return to the library without her, promising she'd be along in a few minutes, and waited in her bedroom for Sam's familiar footsteps. She knew he wanted to change, all day in an outfit he didn't particularly enjoy wearing and several hours of it spent on the road, but Morgan need to talk to him.

"Sam?" she peeked into the hall just as he was reaching his door next to hers.

"Yeah, Sweetie, what's up?" he paused with his hand on the doorknob.

"Remember I told you I had a kinda weird gym sub?" Morgan began, continuing at his nod, "Well, uh, my chemistry teacher was out t'day 'n I guess Mrs. Morris wasn't there either."

He furrowed his brow, inclining his head a bit, "Any'a the students been sick?"

"I don't know," she shrugged, "nothing noticeable."

"That's, uh," he looked over her head as he thought aloud, "pretty strange. I'll be interested t'know if they come back tomorrow or not."

"I'll let'cha know," she assured him, glad he at least agreed it was strange, even if he didn't seem particularly flabbergasted by the information, not that she'd expected him to be.

"I'm gonna change 'n go fill in the team on Elkins," he jerked his head towards the library, "You comin'?"

"Yeah," she nodded weakly, "I'll be there in a bit."

They closed the doors to their respective rooms and Morgan pulled her history text onto her lap at the head of her bed, preferring the solitude of her room to immerse herself in the information she was still enjoying pouring over. In the last week she had more than passed the section her class was studying and only had a hundred pages left of the massive volume, it was a good excuse for avoiding being around her moody oldest brother, though she felt a little guilty for abandoning Claire.

With a hot meal in her belly and her soft bed beneath her, Morgan found it hard to keep her focus on the pages. She opened her eyes a little when the book was leaving her grasp and saw Dean pulling the blanket over her with one hand while setting her book on the nightstand with his other.

"Go back t'sleep," he told her quietly, flipping her nightstand light off and bending to kiss the top of her head, "G'night."

"G'night," Morgan mumbled, turning over and falling back into a dream.

Thursday was a near replica of Wednesday, with the addition of cheerleading practice. Shannon pushed the team hard the whole time, even a few minutes longer than the given hour, reasoning the game was the following evening and this was the last chance they'd have to get everything perfect. Mr. Stoker even became bored by her rantings and left Mrs. Olin's office halfway through the practice, to everyone's great relief. Shannon, however, hardly even seemed to notice as she had the girls redo flips until one of them cried she was dizzy and then the captain turned her attention to the team members involved in the towers. Morgan and Heather were brilliantly in sync and despite Shannon wanting to fine tune everything to perfection, even she couldn't find anything that needed adjusting in their midair tricks. Finally, at a few minutes after four, she let her team change into their street clothes, urging them to thing so hard about their steps they would dream them before the game the following day. Megan was relieved to see Sam in the Impala when she walked out the front doors with the rest of her teammates a few minutes later.

"How was school?" he asked as soon as she dropped onto the passenger seat next to him.

"Fine," she shrugged, "but I really don't like these subs."

"What's goin' on?" Sam waved quickly at Sherri while throwing the Impala in reverse.

"Nothing," she told him flatly, "Ms. Rice had us copy the periodic chart, but I finished it yesterday so I just sat there while everyone wrote f'r'an hour, 'n Mr. Stoker's had us walk around the gym like all week, it's like he doesn't even know what he's doing, or care."

"Your subs?" Sam asked with narrowed eyes as he turned out of the lot.

"Yeah!" she implored in frustration.

"Rice and Stoker?" he confirmed slowly.

"Sam, they're miserable," she whined, hanging her head, but noticed he was not joining in any amusement, rather he looked a bit concerned.

"Was Mrs. Morris back t'day?" he inquired.

"No," Morgan shook her head and watched Sam nod slowly.

He was quiet for the rest of the trip, occasionally trying to ask her a question he already had and absently nodding at the repeated response. Morgan was a bit hurt at his obvious disinterest, but said nothing, nodding and sliding over when he asked her to pull the Impala into the garage after he pushed the heavy doors open.

Friday morning Morgan dressed in her cheerleading uniform again, putting her hair into a ponytail as Shannon had asked and even managing to tie the blue and yellow ribbon around on the first try. She was no longer grounded and everything was right with the world, other than whatever sickness was keeping the principal and a few teachers from their jobs of course. But today was the homecoming game, the day her team had been practicing for, the day the whole school had been excited for all week, if not longer in some cases. Morgan was giddy as she checked herself in the mirror before joining her brothers and Claire in the kitchen for breakfast, looking forward to drive herself again.

"Morning," she poured a mug of coffee and picked at the pile of bacon on the counter.

"Mornin'," Sam and Claire nodded from the table, Dean was pulling the last strips of bacon onto the plate from a sizzling pan.

"Hey, Sam," Morgan munched a crispy piece, "where're the keys t'the Mustang?"

She saw her brothers slowly look at each other before Sam cleared his throat, "I'm gonna take you t'school."

"Why?!" she could help stomping her foot at the same time she yelled her question, but was startled by the crash of the hot pan meeting the steel sink basin.

"Because that's what's happening," Dean growled.

"Dean-" Sam tried.

"No, Sam," the oldest snapped, "we don't need t'explain it! From what I remember the Mustang's there f'r'when we're not here t'take you t'school. 'n guess what, we're here."

"But that's crap!" she yelled, her anger breaking at her oldest brother, taking a step back as he rounded the counter.

"I warned you about backtalkin' me," he growled, easily pulling the struggling girl around his side and landed three sharp smacks on her skirt before flipping it onto her back and landing another on her tight, yellow shorts.

"No, Dean, please!" Morgan cried, writhing away from him, gaining no ground, "Please! I have to cheer today!"

He stopped with his hand in the air, but did not let her go, "You gonna keep mouthin' off?"

"No, sir!" she urged, "I'm sorry, please!"

Dean landed one last sharp swat in the center of her bottom and righted her on her feet, "Watch y'rself, Brat."

Morgan sniffled, avoiding everyone's eyes as she carefully sat next to Sam, who was glaring at their brother. Dean shook his head and left the room.

"Fuckin' asshole," Claire mumbled, but both girls jerked their heads up at Sam's loud finger snap.

"Hey," he barked quietly, "watch y'r'mouth."

Morgan and Claire shared a glower before the blonde pushed away from the table and stalked from the kitchen. Sam tried to offer a weak smile, but Morgan pretended not to see as she sipped her coffee. Her bottom hardly stung and she knew Sam hadn't done anything, but was still a bit resentful of the turn the morning had suddenly taken. She was relieved when it was time to climb in the Impala and get driven to school in similarly awkward silence, at least it would be over soon.

"So, you're just stayin' at school until the game?" Sam asked, confirming the conversation they'd had the previous evening about her plan.

"Yeah," Morgan nodded, repeating what she'd already told him, "we have the rally instead'a our last class 'n then the squads hangin' out 'n gettin' ready."

"What time's the game start?" he glanced over briefly.

"Seven," she sighed, wondering if he'd heard anything she'd told them the night before.

"Keep y'r'phone on you," he told her and Morgan rolled her eyes out the window.

"I will," she mumbled, her phone was always on her.

Sam pulled up to the school and Morgan smiled finally, seeing Bryan sitting on the brick wall talking to Franky, but his eyes followed her for a moment as Sam slowed to a stop. Morgan felt Sam's attention on her, but couldn't get the silly grin off her face and just tried to avoid looking at him as she said good-bye."

"Hey, uh, Morgan," Sam started as she cracked the door open, but paused, waiting for him to continue, "What's Bryan's last name?"

Her stomach dropped and she looked down quickly before glancing back and lying through her teeth, "I don't know."

He nodded, "Any other Bryan's at y'r'school?"

Her stomach twisted with the lie, but she shrugged, "Maybe, m'not sure. Why?"

He smirked, shaking his head, "Nothin', just wonderin'. Have a good day, and, uh, keep y'r'phone on, okay?"

She simply hung her head at him with an exasperated look and Sam chuckled as she pushed the door open, the cool fall breeze hitting her bare legs. Morgan expected him to leave after shutting the door, but as she approached the handsome young man waiting for her near the stairs, the Impala still sat next to the curb. It wasn't until she was walking up the steps next to Bryan and Franky that Sam slowly crept away from the school.

"You look great," Bryan whispered when Franky left them in the main hall.

"Thanks," she blushed a little at his compliment, "Will you be at the rally later?"

"They post a teacher at every exit," he chuckled, "It's not really optional, though it will be the first time I've gone to one."

"You just said there's no way to get out of it," she furrowed her brow.

"There's always a way," he smirked and Morgan giggled, shaking her head.

As usual, Mr. Carson was happy at her arrival, though he seemed slightly more subdued than usual and the class period wasn't as theatrical as he normally made it, Morgan wasn't bothered by it, sometimes his overdramatizations were a little embarrassing. All she could think about was seeing Bryan at the top of the stairs in those wonderful, brief moments before chemistry, hopefully Miss Ellet would be back. She tried to smile at Kelly on her way out the door after the bell rang, but the blonde turned her head and pretended to be straightening the contents of her bag. Kelly's snub slipped quickly from her mind as she rounded the last corner up the stairs and saw the handsome, dark-haired young man waiting for her on the landing of the three-hundred wing.

"Hey, beautiful," he smiled, pulling her into the corner again and sneaking a very quick kiss, making Morgan blush as people passed.

"Hi," she giggled.

"Sorry," he smirked, not looking sorry at all, "Any, uh, news on the dance?"

Morgan pouted slightly, "No, I'm sorry, my brother's being a dick, it's not even worth askin' right now."

"Don't apologize," he grinned, "Will they be at the game tonight?"

"Said they would," she shrugged, "but, uh, look, I mean, he already said it was fine if I went with the girls, so like, maybe I can meet you after he leaves."

Bryan inclined his head at her a little, chuckling, "You're a sneaky brat, it's a little hot," he winked and she couldn't help blush at the nickname he had unwittingly called her, "but, uh, I wouldn't feel right about it. I'll see 'em tonight, right, what's the worst they could do? Beat the shit outta me?"

Morgan smiled, amazed by the young man staring down at her, knowing her brothers wouldn't hurt him, even if they didn't like him, and she was starting to think, if they gave Bryan a chance, they would like him very much.

Ms. Rice was still teaching, if sitting at Miss Ellet's desk while the students copied mundane facts and the basics of chemistry for the entire class period was considered teaching. The only benefit Morgan saw to the terribly long and boring time spent was she didn't have to speak to Patrick as they hunched over their notebooks. The football player continued to glance at her, Morgan could feel his eyes occasionally, hot on the side of her face. When the bell finally rang, he stood, blocking Bryan from her view as he addressed her kindly.

"Hey, uh," he started, "good luck later."

"Yeah," she nodded, scooting around the front of the table, "you too."

Bryan took her hand after following her through the classroom door, Patrick behind them on their way into the cafeteria. Morgan felt her phone buzz in her pocket and glanced at the screen to see a text from Sam, 'How's your day going?' She shook her head at the message, it was uncharacteristic of him to contact her during school, especially with how serious Sam was about paying attention in class. She didn't want to steal her hand back from Bryan and slipped the phone back in her pocket to respond when she was at the lunch table.

Gina and the other girls immediately pulled her into a conversation about their dresses for the dance that weekend, everyone's was short, and each of them was terrified to hear Morgan had yet to acquire the proper attire.

"The dance isn't until like seven," she reasoned, although now she was worried about the tight timeline.

"But it's like a whole day," one girl insisted, "Hair, make-up, I mean it's a process."

Morgan stared blankly at her, shifting her eyes to Gina after a moment, who nodded in agreement to her absolute horror. Claire could do some fancy braids and sometimes played with Morgan's long, dark hair when they were bored, but she'd never considered she needed a special look for the dance beyond a dress she was already hesitant about. Morgan had never worn make-up in her life, besides her Mother once covering up a bruise when they had to travel on a train and thought a toddler with a healing blackeye would attract attention. As the lunch bell rang and she realized Bryan was standing above her, Morgan considered how far behind she was already for the dance.

She couldn't wait for the day to be over, the rally, the game, she just wanted Dean to agree to let Bryan take her to the dance. A dance she was unprepared for, but hoped all Claire's knowledge would be put to good use and was confident her friend would be able to help her in the short amount of time. Just as she entered Mr. Kirk's history class she felt her phone vibrate again, grimacing as she remembered she'd forgotten to text Sam back. Apparently, he was really interested in her Friday, as she read another message, 'Hey, what time's the game again?'

"Morgan," Mr. Kirk raised his eyebrows with a gentle reminder, "phones away please."

"Sorry," she mumbled, slipping her phone back in her pocket, he knew damn well what time the game started.

Hardly anything could've beaten not having to walk around the gym under the long, pointy nose of Mr. Stoker for an hour, but, as Morgan approached the gym in the slew of students rushing there for the pep rally, she saw Bryan waiting in their spot and suddenly nothing could've been better than that. He smiled encouragingly down at her while she approached.

"Y'r'gonna be great," he assured her.

"Thanks," she smirked, seeing the rush of students filing in the gymnasium, Morgan hadn't considered how many people would be watching.

"Morgan!" Shannon called from the end of the hallway, waving her over animatedly.

"I think she means me," Morgan chuckled, "I'll see you after?"

"I'll be here," he promised and watched as she walked down the hall, turning back a few times with a smile.

Morgan had no expectations for the assembly, she and the squad went over their entrance in the hall outside the far gym door no one ever used. The football team was at the other end, by the main gym doors, and the two groups called a few dirty jokes at each other before Mr. McCarthy snapped at them to quit it, Sherri nodded, though obviously stifling giggles. They heard the music playing and Shannon bounced before pushing the doors open and leading the team in a series of whoops, jumps, flips and various crowd exciting activity, until they were lined up exactly as they were in practice, but now facing bleachers full of their peers. Morgan felt her hands getting sweaty, her heart pounding in her ears and was hardly able to think anything, besides wondering what she had gotten herself into. Autopilot took control for a few moments and Morgan found herself halfway through a back-handspring before realizing it, side stepping to her position inside her group of spotters. With a smiling nod at Heather, they launched into the air and spun in unison, landing perfectly and hopping back to their feet. The entire school seemed to really enjoy their routine, Shannon even seemed a bit overwhelmed at the applause as they finished, Sherri was nearly in tears on side of the bleachers.

The football team came storming in soon after a quick announcement from Mr. McCarthy, Morgan took a moment to assess the staff section, Mrs. Morris was not there, or Mrs. Olin, and she already knew Miss Ellet was still out. The boys on the team were all fairly large, Sam was definitely one of the smallest and Patrick without a doubt was the tallest, though she realized he wasn't as broad as he tried to make himself look. The football players didn't do much more than yell and growl, stomping their feet aggressively, it was very primitive. Morgan, along with several other students she could see in the crowd, were clearly tired of the rally when it extended the normal school day by seven minutes, but Shannon told them all to stay put when they were finally dismissed.

"I just wanna run through one more time," she told them and everyone, except Morgan, groaned loudly.

"Shannon," Heather sighed, "it was perfect, it's not gonna get more perfect. Can we please just relax, hang out 'n watch the team get ready for the game?"

Everyone murmured the agreement, including Sherri, and Shannon relented, letting them disperse into the end of the line of students trying to leave the gymnasium. The football team joined the squad on their way into the hall, and Morgan felt the large presence of Patrick just behind her, turning quickly out the door. A hand on her arm stopped further progression down the hall and she whipped around to scowl at Patrick, though he did not let go from the nasty expression, instead, she felt his fingers find a firmer hold.

"Look," he started, pointedly, "I think it's shitty you said you'd go with me 'n then backed out."

"Really?" she scoffed, trying to rip her arm away from him, "Well you didn't exactly ask me, 'n truthfully, I think it's shitty you'd beat up Billy the Kid."

He narrowed his eyes at her, "Your hero boy tell y'that?"

"No," Morgan was still trying to pull her arm from his grasp and became a bit nervous seeing everyone had now left the hallway, "everyone else did, let go! Look, m'sorry I didn't know what to say, but I never wanted to go with you."

His eyebrows raised and his face settled into a scowl, "Y'r'a bitch," his tongue flicked across his snarling lips, "man, y'r'a hot bitch though," Patrick pulled her closer to him with his other large hand wrapped around her waist.

"Stop!" Morgan turned her head and pulled away from his advance, but gasped when her ponytail was wrenched harshly and his mouth came down on hers in a moment. Pushing him did nothing as he pinned her against the wall, his fat tongue trying to force itself into her mouth as his hand finally released her arm, but found her bare thigh and grabbed tightly. Her instincts were screaming at her to hit him, but she couldn't get a free arm, and, in a moment of desperation, let his disgusting tongue pass her teeth, biting hard and tasting blood.

"You bith!" he pushed off quickly, but before Morgan could smirk, the back of his hand came crashing across her face.

She bit back a sob at the pain, refusing to give him the satisfaction, pounding footsteps only partially registered as she breathed heavily at the awful young man, bracing herself as he took another step towards her again. His advance was short lived as a large fist connected with the side of his head and the lumbering football player fell, sliding a few feet from the impact. Bryan pulled her to him immediately, gently turning her head to see the cheek that had been struck and glowering at Patrick, just pulling himself from the floor, turning angrily at Bryan.

"That'll be enough boys," a chilling voice said, Ms. Rice stood at the end of the hall, opposite the main doors, "Mr. Elkins, come with me please."

"Ms. Rice," he protested, "he was-"

"Now, Mr. Elkins," she said finally.

"Go find y'r'team 'n call y'r'brothers," Bryan told her quietly, "stay away from him, I'll see you when I'm done."

"But-" Morgan shook her head, he hadn't done anything wrong, Patrick had.

"It's okay," he assured her, "I'm no stranger to detention."

"But-" she tried again.

"Mr. Elkins," Ms. Rice was clearly losing patience and Bryan squeezed her hand before following the substitute teacher down the hallway and out of sight.

Patrick was more than halfway down the hall, either embarrassed or glad he hadn't been called to go with the teacher, or both. Why hadn't he been called? Had she only just gotten there and decided not to determine what happened? If she'd seen Bryan hit Patrick it was hard for Morgan to believe Ms. Rice hadn't seen Patrick hit her, her phone vibrated in her pocket and it was Dean calling.

"Hey," she answered in a shaky voice, the last few minutes overwhelming her emotions.

"We've been tryin' t'get ahold'a you all day," Dean barked immediately.

"I'm sorry," Morgan bit back a sob.

"What's wrong," the anger was gone from his voice, but it was low and serious.

"I, don't, he just, then he, and Ms. Rice," she couldn't find the words, stammering through the start of sobs.

"Morgan, breathe," he ordered, "What about Ms. Rice?"

"She took Bryan, but he only hit Patrick 'cause Patrick hit me," the words poured out of her mouth.

"Patrick did what?" Dean's scary calm growl prevailed.

"Dean," Morgan sobbed, "he was grabbing me and makin' me kiss him, I bit him 'n he hit me, and Bryan ran in and punched him and then Ms. Rice told him to go with her."

"Both of them," Dean confirmed.

"Just Bryan," she told him, "I don't know where Patrick is, pro'lly went down t' the field."

"We're on our way," he said simply and she sighed a little with relief, she didn't want to be alone right then, but she also didn't want to go join the squad.

Morgan thought she should feel better that the situation was over, but something was very wrong. She waited on the brick wall and it wasn't more than a few minutes before the Impala tore through the half empty lot, parking in one of the first spots as Morgan hurried over. Dean jumped out and pulled her into his arms, the sobs she been holding in finally breaking against his flannel as he stroked her hair and kissed the top of her head.

"Le'me see," he leaned back, putting his hands gently on the side of her face and examining the mark on her cheek before turning to his brother, "You know what this Patrick kid looks like?"

"Yup," Sam sounded scary, but grinned at his sister and opened his arms for her to hug him next, "Have you seen Bryan yet?"

"No," she shook her head, watching her brothers share a strained expression.

"He's still here," Dean jerked his head at the Buick in the back of the lot, "or didn't drive himself."

"What's going on?" Morgan turned her gaze between them.

"Just, stay in the car f'r'a little bit," Dean told her flatly and Sam smirked unhappily.

"No," she crossed her arms, "You're gonna tell me what the hell is going on."

Sam sighed, shrugging at Dean, "She needs t'know, Morgan, Bryan's in danger, as insane as it sounds, he's the Elkins we've been lookin' for."

"No, he's not," she shook her head with tears in her eyes, "His Dad's name was Bill, I asked him!"

"You knew?" Sam breathed, "I asked you point blank this morning what that kid's last name is 'n you lied to me?"

Morgan's eyes met her white sneakers and she heard Dean's fist slam the hood of his beloved car as he yelled, "Are you fucking kidding me?! How long? How long have you known?"

He'd approached her quickly and tugged her chin up to look at his raging eyes, "I found out last week," her answer was quiet and he released his grip, turning away from her.

He popped the trunk open and started rummaging through the weapons, handing a machete to Sam.

"But, it's not him!" she yelled, "His Dad's name-"

"Bill is short for William, Morgan!" Dean barked.

Her stomach flipped as she felt the color draining from her face and slowly turned to look at the front doors. She was back through them in a moment, oblivious to her brothers' screaming demands to stop, and barreled down the hall the way Ms. Rice had taken Bryan only half an hour before. Where would she have taken him? The school seemed abandoned as she peeked in a few classrooms, a hard hand on the back of her neck stopped her in her tracks.

"Oh, little girl," Dean growled, "when we've got the time, y'r'ass is mine."

"Please find him," she cried in a whisper, unaffected by his threat, she'd take a spanking from Dean every day and night for the rest of her life if it meant Bryan would be alright.

"We will," he brother's face softened and he nodded, "you need to-"

"I'm coming with you," she forced through a shaky voice, "I know this school better than you. I will hide and run if you say so, but please, Dean, please, this is all my fault."

His smirk told her he was holding back a lot of things he wanted to say, but simply nodded and gestured her to stay behind him.

"Is there a basement in this school?" Sam asked.

"Yeah," Morgan told them, "but no one ever goes in it, it's like the boiler room and old storage."

"That's the place," Dean nodded, "How do we get down there?"


	18. Chapter 18

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I really hate this box.

Morgan directed them to the secure, steel double doors next to the cafeteria and Sam immediately began picking the lock, pulling it open moments later. It was dark down the concrete steps, but the glow of a light somewhere else could be seen on the left side. Sam and Dean smirked at each other, glanced at their sister and sighed, both pulling out large machetes as Dean slipped his gun from his waistband, offering it to her.

"Just in case," he clarified, before letting go of the weapon, Morgan had no intention of shooting it and wished the heavy thing wasn't in her hands. What she would give to have her magic back at that moment.

Dean descended first, Sam pulled up the rear with Morgan between them and she mimicked their movements exactly. They slunk down the stairs, close to the wall, at the ready as they entered the dark, cluttered space. Old desks and chairs, gym equipment that had seen better days and stacks of boxes filled the area, but a light was clearly shining around the corner, further into the basement of the school.

She felt herself being gently pushed into a corner behind a stack of desks and boxes, Dean's expression was not one to argue with as he silently ordered her to stay put. Morgan watched as her brothers expertly snuck further into the wide space and disappeared around the corner towards the light. Her phone vibrated and she nearly dropped the gun, careful to hold it correctly as she quickly dug her free hand in her pocket to silence the buzzing.

A text from Shannon flashed on the screen Hey where are you? Morgan sighed, thinking nowhere Shannon would believe if she'd even told her, and shoved the phone back in her pocket after turning it on silent. Cheerleading was the furthest thing from her mind as she stared towards the lightly lit corner and prayed Bryan was alright. What had she been thinking to keep that information from her brothers? Bryan was in danger, or worse, because she'd thought it had been a coincidence and was satisfied with her own crappy detective work. How could she have been so stupid? And who the hell came up with Bill as a shorten version of William?

Her legs were starting to ache from crouching, she couldn't hear or see anything and the dark space reminded her of the closets and basements her Mother had locked her in throughout her childhood. Morgan heard a soft cheer and realized the crowd must be assembling for the game, slipping her phone from her pocket she realized it was after six, and had several missed calls and text from nearly the entire cheerleading squad, except Kelly. Most of them were worried, but Shannon's progressed from concern to anger in the six she'd sent over the nearly three hours Morgan had been crouched on the floor of the school basement, her brother's gun warm in her sweaty hand.

"Morgan!" Dean's bark made her jump, silently screaming a moment at the pain in her cramped legs.

Her brother rounded the corner quickly with a woman in his arms and Morgan hurried towards him in the dark, knocking into a desk and hearing a crash from the other side of the randomly stacked objects. The long blonde hair made her stomach twist and she felt nauseous at the sight of Miss Ellet, her eyes closed peacefully, cradled in Dean's strong arms.

"Is she-" Morgan whispered as Dean passed her towards the stairs.

"She's alive," he confirmed, holding the hand under her legs out for his gun that she eagerly returned, "Go help Sam."

Morgan turned on her heel at the order and ran towards the corner her brothers had disappeared around hours earlier, finding a long, softly lit corridor of doors labeled for storage and maintenance. The door at the very end was open and she bolted towards it, skidding to a halt when Sam limped into the hallway. She gasped at the bloodied face of Bryan, his arm around Sam's shoulder for support as her brother helped the weak young man leave the bright storage room.

"Bryyyan," she sobbed, rushing towards the pair, but terrified to touch him, unsure where all the blood was from and didn't want to hurt him further.

"Hey, man," Sam shook Bryan gently, "Can you walk with her?"

He nodded his bloody head, pulling his arm from Sam with a groan and nearly losing his balance, but Morgan slipped her tiny frame where her brother had been, feeling his weight nearly buckle her knees. She was determined to bear the load and tried to give him a weak smile as they shuffled down the hallway, excruciatingly slow. Sam met up with them before they rounded the corner and Morgan felt the color drain from her face seeing her principal, unconscious in her brother's arms.

"Sam?" she tried.

"Let's get outta here," he said curtly, jerking his head at the stairs.

She watched Bryan's hand shaking as he used the railing to pull himself up, trying to alleviate some of the pressure on her as Morgan pushed him up the stairs, every pained groan she heard stabbed her heart. She had done this to him. Her throat was tight and tears were streaming down her cheeks, but Morgan pushed him as hard as she could, her guilt helping strengthen each step. Dean was running down the hallway towards them when they finally made it to the main level, he jerked his head at Morgan and quickly replaced her under Bryan's arm.

"Okay, kid," Dean's voice was encouraging, "y'r'gonna be fine, let's get'cha outta here."

"Thanks," Bryan mumbled, "my, uh, my Mom, I gotta go home."

Morgan saw Dean and Sam share a solemn expression briefly before the oldest muttered, "Let's get goin'."

They followed Dean to a side door, she could hear the crowd loudly outside, they were around the corner, just out of sight from the football field. Where she was supposed to be, but the thought didn't even enter her mind. The Impala idled powerfully right next to the door, Miss Ellet was laid in the backseat across the passenger side of the bench.

"How're we gonna fit everyone?" Sam asked, lifting Mrs. Morris in his arms a little.

"We'll, uh," Dean thought, looking at the group and then the Impala.

"I need my car," Bryan told him simply.

"Kid, right now-" Dean began.

"Sir," Bryan ground out, pushing himself to stand alone, clearly using as much energy as he could muster, "I need my car."

Dean set challenging eyes on the young man, who returned the gaze equally, and finally the oldest Winchester offered a relenting sigh, "Look, y'can't drive right now, but I'll take it back for ya."

Bryan's expression told them he didn't like the arrangement, but couldn't argue the reality of the situation and grudgingly pulled his keys from his jeans pocket with a shaky hand, offering them to Dean.

"She's my baby," the young man told him.

"I understand," Dean smirked, glancing at the rumbling sedan, "she's in good hands."

Bryan nodded, but looked no more reassured.

"Sam," Dean turned to his brother, "take 'em t'the bunker, I'm right behind you."

"I gotta go home," Bryan insisted, "My Mom, if they found me," he squeezed his eyes tightly, "she's in trouble."

Again, Sam and Dean glanced at each other and Morgan's stomach sank, she knew that look.

"Bryan," Dean began, but could hardly look at the young man and she knew what he was about to say, willing him not to say it, "I'm really sorry, we, uh, we figured out who y'r'mom was before we figured out who you are, 'n, uh, we," her brother took a deep breath, "I'm sorry, kid, she was gone when we got there."

The only sound that could be heard was the crowd as the group stood next to the Impala and watched Bryan understand that the mother he'd said good-bye to that morning was dead. His face paled behind the blood, his jaw hanging open in shock, but he'd stopped swaying, standing straight on his feet and breathing heavily. Morgan's stomach turned, the guilt propelling the contents of her stomach upwards and she turned to the bushes behind her.

"Shit," she heard Dean and felt his hand gently moving up and down her back, she wished he'd stop, she didn't deserve comfort.

"Bryan," Sam began, "I'm so sorry, man, we didn't want t'tell you like this," the young man stayed silent, "c'mon, please, we're goin' somewhere safe."

The doors to the Impala creaked and slammed while Morgan wiped vomit from her mouth and tears from her eyes, Sam was leaving the curb as she shakily stood to her full height. She saw Bryan in the passenger seat of the black sedan, staring straight ahead, his face still blank with shock. Dean smirked sadly down at her and she averted her eyes to the ground, she had caused all of it, Bryan's mother was dead because of her stupidity.

"C'mon," Dean jerked his head towards the parking lot and Morgan moved to follow him, but both stopped at a loud, jeering call.

"Hey, who made the bitch cry?!" Patrick laughed loudly with a small group of football players as they walked around the corner of the school. He looked much larger in his shoulder pads, his helmet at his side did nothing to cover the bruise on his right cheek.

"Is that him?" Dean snarled, Morgan couldn't help a sob and that was answer enough for her brother as he approached the group, "Hey, Patrick! I wanna talk t'you."

"Who're you?" the lineman scoffed.

"I'm the bitch's brother," she heard the scary calm voice and knew he was about to explode, "I just gotta question. How old 'r you, kid?"

"Eighteen," Patrick answered almost proudly.

"Good," Dean nodded and landed a hard punch to the bridge of the young man's nose, another to his stomach made Patrick drop to his knees and Morgan barely heard her brother as he leaned over threateningly, "You touch my sister again, I'll kill you, 'n you won't be my first," and pushed the beaten young man roughly by his head to the ground.

She saw the fear on the other players' faces as Dean turned and silently gestured her to walk with him to Bryan's car in the now very full parking lot. Patrick was groaning on his side, holding his stomach with one hand and catching blood from his nose in the other. Morgan thought she should feel satisfied at the repercussion her attacker had suffered, but her mind was swarming with guilt over Bryan and his mother.

Dean unlocked the black coupe, running a finger over the pristine paint and smirking before he dropped behind the wheel. Morgan had never been in Bryan's car, she'd hoped if she had it would've been with the owner driving, not her brother. The soft, black leather seats reminded her of the Impala, worn and comfortable from years of use, and the powerful growl of the engine vibrated below her like the homey sedan as he turned the ignition over. Her brother threw the center console shifter into reverse and left the parking lot quickly, fishtailing on the road and accelerating so fast Morgan's head hit the seat at the force.

"What happened?" she breathed quietly.

"Those subs were vampires," he said simply and her eyes widened at him, "havin' a little fun too, assholes, when you told Sam their names were Stoker 'n Rice he started figurin' it out."

"Why?" she shook her in confusion.

"Bram Stoker wrote Dracula," Dean continued, "an' Anne Rice was a huge vamp novelist back in the day, thought they were bein' funny," he shook his head angrily, "bitch was laughin' when I took her head off."

"Wait?!" Morgan gasped, "Are there bodies in the basement?"

"We set it up to look like they all offed each other," Dean shrugged nonchalantly, "or the cops'll think there's a maniac on the loose, either way."

"All?" she questioned, ignoring his bluntness towards death, she was used to it.

"Rice, Stoker 'n, uh," Dean grimaced, "a bigger lady in gym shorts and a sweatshirt."

"Mrs. Olin," she breathed, "my gym teacher."

"She didn't make it," he said sadly.

"Miss Ellet 'n Mrs. Morris?" she asked quietly, afraid of the answer.

"Mrs. Morris needs rest, 'n maybe a pint 'r two'a blood," Dean sounded hopeful, "but she'll be fine."

"Miss Ellet?" she insisted, despite Mr. Kirk being nice to look at, Miss Ellet was easily her favorite teacher.

"She'll be okay," Dean seemed to be trying to assure himself as much as he was his sister, but the engine revved harder and they pushed faster down the country road.

"It's his baby," Morgan reminded him with a smirk.

"She loves it," Dean smiled, caressing the steering wheel.

"He races it sometimes," she told him and wasn't sure why.

"Yeah, I would," her brother scoffed lightly.

Morgan's stomach twisted again thinking of Bryan and what he must be going through at that moment, her throat tightened and tears started falling before she could stop them, turning towards the window to hide her face.

"Hey," Dean said gently, putting a hand on her knee and she promptly tore her leg away.

"Don't," she sobbed, shaking her head, "don't be nice t'me, this, this was all my fault, Bryan's hurt, his Mom," she sobbed again, burying her head in her hands and felt the car slow to a stop.

"Morgan," her brother tried to pull her chin gently to look at him, but she wrenched away, "should you've told Sam 'n me Bryan's last name, even if y'thought it was a coincidence? Damn right, y'shoulda, but that doesn't make what happened here your fault. Bryan's house had warding, salt on the doors and windows and demon traps under the rugs, they've been runnin' 'n hidin' a long time. His mother died with a meat cleaver in her hands 'n managed t'take out two of those blood suckin' freaks before they got'er. This was not your fault, blame Daniel Elkins or his son f'r'gettin' in the game t'begin with, it always ends the same."

She thought on his words for a moment, they hardly made her feel better, "But they might've been safe if I'd told you guys last week."

"Might've," Dean nodded in agreement, "might not've, I'm not gonna say y'didin't screw up, royally, but this is not on you, you didn't do this, Morgan."

"I feel like I did," her words were hushed and solemn.

"Y'didn't help," he shook his head, "but, from the looks'a Mrs. Elkin's set up, she's been waitin' f'r'somethin' like this, prob'ly tryin' t'give her son the most normal life she could, but it was pretty obvious she knew they had to look over their shoulders. Truthfully, if she'd kept movin' they might'a had a shot, settin' up in a poe-dunk town 'n too proud to change their name were the factors at fault here, and freakin' monsters, goddamn freakin' monsters."

She nodded slowly at him, only slightly alleviated of her guilt, pulling at the hem of her short skirt.

"Hey," Dean gently got her to meet her his matching green eyes, "are you okay?"

"Yeah," she scoffed, she had no right to sympathy at the moment.

"That football player," his nostrils flared a little, but his tone was caring, "had no right t'touch you, 'n I am so, so sorry you went through that. I wish-"

"Dean," she forced a weak smile, "I know, 'n thank you, I mean, that, back there, was freakin' awesome."

"He had it comin'," Dean smirked, "Prob'ly should'a done worse, but it, uh, looked like y'r'a buddy already warmed him up f'r'me."

"Yeah, that was a hard hit," Morgan grimaced remembering the sound of Bryan's fist connecting with Patrick's skull.

"Good," her brother nodded almost proudly, "an' you bit him?"

"He was shovin' his tongue in my mouth!" she burst out, blushing and biting her lips instantly, watching the vein in Dean's forehead throb.

He glanced behind them the way they'd come from, "If there wasn't about t'be a swarm'a cops at that place, little fu-, y'shoulda bit it clean off, what kinda," then he just growled for a few seconds and threw the shifter in drive before fishtailing down the open country road to the bunker.


	19. Chapter 19

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Morgan's guilt consumes her

The Impala was in the garage already when Dean pulled Bryan's coupe through the doors, but no one was inside it any longer, and Morgan followed her brother through the familiar maze of the bunker hallways. The library was empty and she couldn't hear anyone's voice echoing from the kitchen as they crossed the open room.

"Where is everyone?" she asked nervously.

"Go change," Dean ordered, "We'll go find 'em in a minute."

Morgan didn't argue, she would never argue with her brothers again, or withhold valuable information that might save people's lives, and closed her bedroom door behind her. She wanted to cry more, but didn't feel she deserved to, her guilt was her own fault. Her brother may have made a good point about the Elkins' being prepared for something like this, but had she told her brothers they would have had time to run, both of them. How could she face Bryan?

"Hey," Dean knocked on her door and peeked in as she was pulling a sweatshirt onto her shoulders, zipping it halfway, "Y'wanna come, 'r stay?"

"I'll come," she nodded, following his gesture as he pushed the door all the way open, two fresh beers in one hand and a quarter drunk bottle in his other.

They walked down the hall away from the kitchen and library, a way Morgan rarely ventured and almost never beyond Claire's room at the end of the corridor. She wondered where her friend was as they passed her door and continued to the left and down a smaller hallway, Dean took another turn and Morgan was sure she'd never been where they were. All the tiles were white, floor to ceiling and a few gurney beds lined one side, Miss Ellet and Mrs. Morris occupying two, but a sudden groan behind a blue screen stole Morgan's attention and made her grimace with sympathetic pain.

"I know, man," she heard Sam say calmly, "We'll be done soon."

"Y'r'a bad liar," Bryan chuckled, but gasped in pain again and Morgan bit her lips to avoid crying out.

"Claire, get me some more alcohol," Sam requested.

"Me too," and she heard her brother and friend laugh at the young man's good humor.

"I got'cha covered, kid," Dean moved around the screen, leaving Morgan alone on the other side, listening.

"Thanks," Bryan said through another groan.

"He's younger than me!" Claire pointed out with joking frustration.

"Get tortured by vamps 'n we'll talk," Dean told her and Morgan heard glass clinking as the blonde joined her around the screen.

Pressing her finger to her lips she jerked her head into the hallway and Morgan followed.

"You might not wanna see him right now," Claire whispered, "He's gonna be fine, but, they, uh, cut him up pretty bad," Morgan tried to keep her face from breaking with the sobs she felt wracking her chest and Claire put an arm around her shoulders, refusing to let her pull away, "Hey, really he's gonna be fine, relax."

Morgan shook her head, ready to tell Claire she'd lied, to her brothers and to her, Claire had known she knew something when Elkins was first brought up, but she'd lied to her friend. Forcing the sobs to subside, she took a deep breath, ready to face the angry wrath Claire would rightfully have at her.

"What? Where am I?!" Morgan and Claire's eyes widened at each other at the frantic, hoarse voice of a woman and hurried back in the room as Miss Ellet was trying to push herself into a sitting position. She kept her eyes closed tightly, shielding them with an arm from the bright lights of the exam room, "Oh, it hurts!"

"Miss Ellet!" Morgan hurried towards her, but stopped at the strong hand on her shoulder as Dean moved passed and sat on the teacher's bed.

"Jenny y'r'safe," he told her as she tried to peer at him through mostly closed eyes, "it's Dean Winchester, Morgan's brother, you were kidnapped, I'm not sure what you remember-"

"Vampires," the pretty woman breathed in a scared voice, "oh my God, no, they couldn't be, I don't know! What did they do to me?"

"Which one of them made you drink their blood?" his question came out calmly, like he asked it every day, the hair on the back of Morgan's neck stood up.

"B-blood?" Miss Ellet shook her head on the pillow, holding her hands tightly on her skull, "oh it hurts!"

"Jenny," Dean said gently, "I wanna help, please answer me. Which one made you drink their blood?"

"Her, Rice," she nearly yelled from the pain, "stupid bitch."

"And have you drank any since then?" he asked, again in a strangely calm tone.

"What?" Miss Ellet turned on her side, groaning in pain.

"Did you drink human blood?" his question was still calm, but louder.

"No!" she screamed, "Please make this stop!"

"Sam, we set?" Dean stood from the bed.

"Yeah, over here," Sam responded and Morgan heard another groan of pain from Bryan.

Dean returned from around the screen with a glass of murky liquid, popped a vile from his pocket open and poured the blood from it into the drink, swirling it a bit before sitting back on the bed with Miss Ellet.

"Jenny, drink this," he tried to gently help her into a sitting position, but she pulled away.

"No," Miss Ellet sobbed.

"It's gonna make you better," Dean assured her, "It'll stop hurting, I promise."

She could barely open her eyes, but looked at him with trepidation, "Is Morgan here?"

"Yes, I'm here, Miss Ellet," she burst out, only then realizing Bryan now also knew she was there, but approached her teacher at her brother's slight head jerk.

"What's happening?" her teacher asked and the young girl shifted her eyes at her brother.

"The vampires turned you," Dean put a gentle hand on Miss Ellet's and she didn't pull it away, "but, we can cure you as long as you didn't drink any human blood."

"I'm a what?" she cried loudly, Morgan's stomach twisted with further guilt, watching her teacher sob in pain and confusion.

"You're a beautiful woman," Dean said firmly and Miss Ellet's sobs stopped suddenly, "an' y'r'gonna drink this awful crap 'cause it's gonna help. Now, c'mon, sit up, let's go."

Morgan and Claire shared a sideways glance in mutual appreciation that they weren't the only people who could be motivated by the stern voice of Dean Winchester as Miss Ellet took the glass from him. She turned her head and choked on the first sip, but Dean gently pushed the glass closer to her again and she gulped it down, grudgingly.

"Morgan?" a chill went down her spine at Bryan's call, but she took a deep breath and walked around the screen with Claire at her shoulder.

He was covered in blood, his shirt had been cut away, his jeans sliced open to just above his knees and there were gashes down his shins, arms and along his ribs, some stitched, most not. Morgan bit her lips together on the cry she felt bubbling and tried to force a smile at him, but stopped, sure it came out as a terrible grimace. Sam glanced at her with an attempted encouraging smirk, but quickly returned his focus to the long cut he was stitching up Bryan's side, the young man's face was pained suddenly and he shoved the bottle in his mouth to stifle the agonizing groan with the numbing alcohol.

"It looks worse than it is," he tried to smile at her after gulping down his beer.

"Y'r'a bad liar," her voice was shaky, but grinned weakly seeing the brief amusement on his face, it quickly faded into a grimace as he bit his fist, growling at the pain.

"I'm sorry," Sam's hand moved quicker, "almost done with this one, definitely the worst of 'em."

Bryan nodded, his fist still jammed in his mouth, breathing heavily as his other hand squeezed the bottle so tight his knuckles were losing color.

"Bryan," Morgan's voice was hushed and shaky, "I'm, I'm so sorry, I don't even know, I can't believe, I'm just so sorry."

"Morgan," Sam jerked his head, "Claire, could you two grab some towels 'n, uh, maybe the scotch in the library."

"Now y'r'talkin'," Bryan chuckled weakly, his face still covered in pain as the girls left on their task.

Mrs. Morris remained asleep, a clear IV solution dripping into her arm, Morgan was occasionally still amazed by what her brothers were capable of doing, beyond killing monsters. Despite Miss Ellet's protests, Dean scooped her into his arms, telling her to keep her eyes closed, promising it would be over soon. He nodded to the girls to go ahead of him into the hallway and as they continued towards the library, Dean kicked his bedroom door open, shutting it behind him and the whimpering woman. Morgan trusted her brother, if he said Miss Ellet would be alright, well then, she believed him, but her stomach still twisted with guilt at the whole situation as they ascended the stairs to the library.

Claire grabbed the decanter off the side table next to the arm chair, pulled the top off and took a swig, offering it to Morgan. The younger girl shook her head at the bottle.

"What?" the blonde scoffed, "You haven't had a rough day? Aren't we all s'pose t'be watchin' you fly through the air, flashin' y'r'panties t'the world right about now?"

Morgan's already emotional torrent took a nose dive as she remembered her team, the practices, Shannon, Bobby, everyone who'd been counting on her to be there. Bryan was hurt, his mother was dead, Mrs. Olin was dead, Mrs. Morris was lying in her home, hopefully healing, and Miss Ellet was possibly turning into a vampire, all because she'd been satisfied with Bill being a real name.

"Morgan," Claire brought her back to the library with a hushed, demanding tone, shaking the decanter a little at her, "take a drink."

She grabbed the neck below Claire's fingers and took a quick swig, forgetting the awful burning sensation, but forced a swallow and took another, repeating the process. Claire took one more, wiped her mouth and capped the still mostly full bottle, jerking her head towards the stairs. Morgan felt a bit light headed, but grabbed the railing and allowed her feet to move automatically as she tried to push the memories of the day from her mind, focusing on the warm, numbing feeling taking over her body. Dean's door was still closed, no light in the crack by the floor as they passed, but he wasn't in the exam room when they reentered, Morgan carrying a stack of towels from the shower room.

Sam had moved onto a smaller gash on Bryan's torso, he seemed less pained by the stitches than the ones they'd previously watched him endure. Morgan set the towels on the metal cart behind her brother at his head jerk and Claire handed the decanter to Bryan without needing to be told, removing the top for him with a small smile.

"Thanks," he smirked and she nodded in return.

Bryan took a few gulps of the scotch, impressively close together Morgan thought, although he was clearly in a lot of pain.

"Hey," he raised his eyebrows at her, "you okay?"

Morgan wanted to cry at the question, but managed to stifle it into an incredulous scoff, "Me? You! Look, look what they did to you!"

"I'll be fine, best stitch job I've ever seen," he hissed the last word as Sam hit a sensitive spot with the needle, "y'r'brother should'a been a doctor."

"I was gonna be a lawyer," Sam scoffed.

"Stanford, right?" Bryan grimaced and took another small swig of scotch.

"Yeah," Sam nodded, his brow furrowed a bit.

"That was my dream school," Bryan leaned his head back with a quiet sigh.

"Got plenty'a time, kid," Sam told him, pausing his hand a moment.

"Yeah," the young man nodded, but staring off somewhere else, "I got other things I gotta do now."

"H-hello?" the timid voice of Mrs. Morris echoed to them and the girls hurried around the screen, slowing their approach on the frightened woman.

"Mrs. Morris," Morgan began, remembering her brother's words, "you're safe, you were kidnapped. What do you remember?"

The woman stared at her with glazed eyes as her head swayed a bit, "Blood," the single word was nearly a whisper before her head hit the pillow and she was unconscious again.

"Well that was helpful," Claire rolled her eyes, returning to Sam and Bryan, Morgan followed behind her, unsure what to do, unable to say a word, her guilt further instigated by his concern of her after she'd put him in such danger.

Sam held a bottle of alcohol and a blood-stained rag, grimacing at the already pained youth, "This is gonna sting again."

Bryan nodded his understanding, taking another long gulp from the decanter of scotch just before Sam carefully poured the alcohol over a few cuts. The young man hissed in agony, throwing his head back as Morgan turned, Claire caught her in a hug and pulled the crying girl from the area, back into the hallway.

"Look," her friend's voice was soft, "Sam 'n I got this, he's in good hands, go relax, go lay down or something, I'll come get you when we're done."

Morgan didn't want to go lay down or something, but she also didn't want to be there, her heart breaking at every gasp and growl from Bryan as her brother diligently stitched his wounds. Mrs. Morris was still unconscious on the gurney bed as she exited the white tiled room, wandering back through the halls aimlessly.

Dean's door remained shut as she found her way into the kitchen, opening the fridge from habit and closing it after a few moments without grabbing anything. Morgan still felt nauseous and a ginger ale would help, but she didn't deserve to be released of the discomfort, letting out pathetic sob, she couldn't help wrapping her arms around herself. When Dean's strong arms held her tightly with her back pressed into his chest, Morgan sobbed louder, allowing her brother to turn her, holding her tearstained face against his flannel.

"Shhh," Dean kissed her hair, "Sweetie, it's gonna be okay."

Morgan let the tears fall, let the painful, chest wracking sobs go in the safety of her brother's arms. She didn't deserve the love he still offered, he knew what she'd done and somehow was still holding her, promising it would all be alright. Mrs. Morris unconscious, Miss Ellet's circumstances were still unknown, Bryan was writhing in agony and would never see his mother again. How could it possibly be okay?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for the feedback! Really hope most of you reading are enjoying this- I've got quite a bit more coming...


	20. Chapter 20

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Morgan and Bryan talk, but she knows there's only one way she's going to be able to relieve the guilt of lying to her brother...

The ticking of the analog clock on the wall was the only sound in Morgan's bedroom as she sat on her bed, trying to outrun her own thoughts. It had been hours since they'd left the school, a place Morgan knew she'd never walk into again. She'd heard a few pained whimpers from Dean's room, but they'd ceased and she hoped Miss Ellet was improving. Her brother was sympathetic to the teacher's agony, as if he knew the pain she was going through, and hardly left his bedroom. A soft knock on her door made Morgan sit up as she answered, "Yeah?"

"Hey," Sam smirked as he walked in the room, shutting the door behind him.

"How's Bryan?" the question was automatic, holding her breath as she waited for a response.

"He's fine," her brother nodded, sitting on the edge of her bed, "sleepin'," Morgan sighed, barely feeling any relief, "But, how are you?"

She scoffed at his question, "Stupid," quiet sobs broke her composure, "I'm so stupid."

"Morgan," Sam's voice was full of pain as he tried to pull his sister into a hug, refusing to let her push away and wrapped his strong arms around the crying girl, "this wasn't your fault."

"His Mommm," she cried, squeezing Sam's shirt in her fingers as he rubbed gently up and down her back, "I should've t-old you, I'm ssso stu-pid!"

"Sweetie," Sam hushed her, "you're not stupid, you made a mistake, but this wasn't your fault, you didn't send the vampires to Bryan's house, you didn't do this, Morgan, please listen to me."

She nodded into his shirt, she was listening, she just didn't believe his words.

"Morgan," Sam held her by the shoulders away from him, dipping his head until she met his eyes, "I can't imagine how angry you are with y'rself right now, well, actually I can, and I'm tellin' you, you did not do this."

"But if I'd told you," she sniffled, wiping her nose with the sleeve of her sweatshirt.

"They'd've followed them," he told her firmly, "They would've gone to any lengths to find them, in fact, if they'd run now it may've put more people in danger. The Elkins had a top spot on the vampires' list 'n they knew that."

"I lied to you," she whispered, dipping her head again.

"You did," Sam nodded, "an' I'm not happy about that, but," he lifted her chin gently to look at him again, "I don't think there's a punishment in this world we could've doled out that would'a made you learn your lesson harder than this."

"I'm just so sor-ry," Morgan sobbed again as Sam gathered her back in his arms.

"I know, Sweetie," he planted a kiss on top of her hair, "I know you are, but you didn't cause this."

"I didn't help," she whispered through sniffles.

"No," he agreed, "y'didn't, but that doesn't make it y'r'fault. Vampires killed Mrs. Elkins, not you. You, should not have lied t'me, but I also think we should'a told you what we knew, no one did the right thing here 'n it cost a life, but all we can do now is find these monsters and stop 'em. Y'know, Bryan's Mom took out two of 'em?"

"Dean told me," Morgan smirked, thinking of how tough the woman must have been.

"Bryan said she'd known something was wrong the last few weeks," Sam admitted, "she didn't tell him anything either, but he said he could tell she was on edge about somethin', even tried to make him stay home from school without a reason," he sighed, "Failure to communicate 'n tryin' t'shelter him, and you, was a mutual mistake here. You should not have lied to me, but that was not the factor that led to her death. I need you to understand that."

Surprisingly, that did make her feel slightly better, not entirely, but to be able to share the blame was a little alleviating. Morgan nodded slowly at her brother, wiping tears from her eyes and returning his small grin.

"Are you hungry? I'm starvin'," Sam slapped his firm abdomen with an open hand.

"I'm okay," she shook her head, still feeling nauseous.

"A'right," he smirked, "Want me t'let you know when Bryan wakes up?"

"Please," she nodded and Sam returned it with his own in a silent promise that he would, before leaving the room.

It wasn't more than a few moments before her door burst open again, without a knock, and Claire gave her a tightlipped smirk as she shut them in the room together. Her face was strange, agitated, but not unfriendly.

"So, just rememberin' the name from y'r'Dad's journal?" the blonde scoffed and Morgan dipped her head.

"I'm sorry," she mumbled.

"I get why you wouldn't tell them," she waved a hand at the door as she approached the bed, "but me? C'mon, me?! Morgan, we tell each other everything."

Claire wasn't angry at her for lying, she was hurt, and that was much worse. Her friend blurred before her as fresh tears filled her eyes and her throat squeezed tightly, the end of her mattress sank as Claire plopped down.

"I didn't want to worry anyone," Morgan admitted quietly, "I thought I could find out if he was or wasn't, 'n not hafta have my whole crazy family trackin' down the guy I like."

"Yeah, guess we're gonna hafta widen y'r'repertoire of nicknames," Claire sneered.

"Seriously, how do you get Bill from William?!" Morgan burst out in a strange sobbing laugh and Claire smiled at her, shaking her head, "I really fucked up."

"Everybody fucked up," Claire shrugged, "Bryan doesn't blame you."

Morgan looked at her with surprise, "Does he know I knew?"

"He knows you knew we were lookin' f'r'William," Claire told her, "an' he actually kinda laughed a little at the Bill thing, he's, uh, he's a good guy, funny, an' I mean, his Mom just died, an' I could tell he's upset 'n just tryin' not t'think about it, but he's nice, Morgan, I like him."

She couldn't help beaming at her friend, this information and Claire's positive opinion of Bryan made her feel almost guilt free. She had still lied, but that wasn't new guilt, it had been swimming under the surface since she'd known Bryan's last name and increased that morning when Sam asked her specifically if she knew what it was and she said she didn't, this guilt had had time to grow and fester, propelled fully by the repercussions of the situation. Dean and Sam were right, realistically, she knew that, and Claire was assuring her that Bryan didn't hold her accountable for any of the terrible things that had happened to him, or his mother. But she had lied. Morgan couldn't shake the heavy culpability sitting in her gut and found herself strangely wishing her brothers hadn't been so understanding.

\------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Sam and Dean were in the kitchen early the next morning, Morgan shuffled in wearing the same clothes she'd changed in to when they'd arrived the day before, she hadn't slept and it didn't look like they had either. She poured herself a cup of hot coffee and joined her brothers standing around the island with a large plate of bacon between them, more popping on the stove behind Dean.

"Bryan's up, I'm gonna take him some'a this," Sam told her, "Wanna come with me?"

"Yeah," she nodded, taking note of the sideways glance Dean gave Sam, "I, uh, don't know if he drinks coffee."

"Orange juice is prob'lly better right now anyway," Sam smirked and she nodded in agreement, taking the juice from the refrigerator.

Sam slid a plate on the island and piled a handful of crisp slices on it before nudging it towards his sister. She shoved a few pieces in her mouth from the larger platter, washing them down with a sip of coffee quickly, eager to see how Bryan was doing.

"What about Mrs. Morris?" she asked and they both smirked.

"Finally came to last night 'n we took her home," Sam told her.

"Pretty sure we're her favorite people in the world now," Dean chuckled, "she's earned that early retirement."

"Yeah," Sam scoffed lightly and addressed their sister again, "she's fine, shaken up 'n all, but, apparently, she's always been a believer of the supernatural, so at least that talk was easy."

"Usually is after a vamp uses you as a juice box f'r'a few days," Dean shrugged.

"Good point," Sam admitted, "A'right c'mon."

Morgan followed her brother down the hallway with the plate of bacon in one hand and glass of orange juice in the other. He stopped outside the door across from Claire's room and knocked hard, a moment later a husky 'yeah' reached their ears. The room, identical to all the others in set up, but bare of personal affects, was softly lit by the light on the table by his bed and Bryan sat up against the headboard, his arms and visible torso wrapped in bandages, it seemed only a few sections of skin had remained unharmed. Morgan felt the plate falter in her shaky hand but tightened her fist, and her resolve, following Sam's approach on the young man.

"Mornin'," Bryan grinned weakly at her, "S'that bacon?" she grinned back, setting the plate and glass on the nightstand, "Thanks."

"Y'r'welcome," Morgan nearly whispered.

"How y'feelin'?" Sam asked.

"Like somebody used me as a pincushion," the young man chuckled darkly.

"I'll get'cha some more pain meds," Sam nodded and Morgan caught a small smirk before he left the room, leaving the door cracked a couple inches.

Morgan felt a bit more awkward with Sam out of the room, but was glad he'd left them alone.

"Bryan," she began, "I'm so sorry, you don't know how awful I feel."

"Why?" he shook his head with narrowed eyes, "Cause y'didn't want me t'be who I am? Trust me, sometimes I haven't wanted t'be who I am."

"I'm sorry about your Mom," Morgan forced the words in a hushed tone, unable to meet his eyes.

"Yeah," he nodded slowly, "got two of 'em, though, Dad would'a been proud," he chuckled to himself, "Y'know, she's never been the same since he died, like she was waitin' f'r'somethin' like this t'happen, not like she was afraid of it, though, just always knew it wasn't over. When we lived in Lawrence at least we had Missouri, she was a-"

"A psychic," Morgan interjected quietly.

"You knew her?" Bryan's eyes lit up.

"My brothers did," she clarified, "I guess she helped our Dad when he started hunting."

"She was a great lady," he nodded a little sadly, "she'd know if somethin' was comin', give us time to hide, or fight, my Mom wasn't much f'r'bein' scared in her own home. But when Missouri died, they knew where we were, 'n without her we were sitting ducks, but my Mom couldn't stomach goin' too far, 'cause her parents 'r buried in Topeka. I always told her we should'a gone further, but they'd'a found us anyway."

His shrugging shoulders sagged in defeat at the end of his proclamation, Morgan wanted to comfort him, but had no idea how she could. With her eyes on the floor she felt his squeeze her hand and looked up at the attempted grin he was giving her.

"I'll be okay," he assured her, "at least I was here, right? I mean, if y'r'brothers hadn't gotten down there I'd be toast."

Morgan's stomach turned again, here he was comforting her, but if she hadn't lied to her brothers, Bryan may not have been in the school basement to begin with, and she had to tell him that.

"Bryan," she began quietly, "Sam asked me Friday morning what y'r'last name was 'n, uh, I," her throat tightened on the rest of the words as tears filled her eyes and felt him pull her by the hand to sit on the edge of his bed.

"Hey, hey, c'mon," he brushed tears from her cheeks with his thumb, cradling her face with his large hand, "I know, Baby, listen, I know," she met his dark brown eyes and saw the honesty of his feelings, "I don't blame you, this was gonna happen one way 'r another, I promise, it was not y'r'fault."

"If I hadn't lied-" she started and he squeezed her hand a little.

"Stop," his voice was firm, "this was gonna happen whether you lied 'r not. That doesn't make it right, but that's between you 'n y'r'brothers, it didn't cause any'a this, though, it really didn't. This goes back further than you'd even believe."

His smirk was mysterious, but his eyes were full of honesty in the statement and Morgan breathed a final sigh of relief as Sam walked back into the room. Seeing her brother, however, reminder her that while she may be alleviated of her personal blame over causing Mrs. Elkin's death, she'd lied to him, and that guilt rolled in the pit of her stomach again.

"Thanks," Bryan took the orange bottle from Sam, popping the lid and pouring a couple white pills in his palm before offering them back.

"Keep 'em in here," Sam shrugged, "just don't go crazy."

The younger man grinned, nodding at Sam and set the prescription bottle on the nightstand next to his breakfast.

"We'll let'cha eat," Sam put a hand on Morgan's shoulder and she gave Bryan a small smile as she got off the edge of his bed.

"Hey, doc," Bryan addressed Sam, "think I can get outta here t'day?"

Morgan's heart sank at the question, but she couldn't blame him.

"Rest f'r'a bit," Sam nodded, "y'don't need those stitches rippin' open, 'n, uh, Dean 'n I were, uh, gonna go back t'y'r'place later, so if there's anything y'need."

"I need t'go with you," Bryan said simply.

"I know, man," Sam sighed, "but we got this, you need t'take care'a y'rself right now."

"Sam," Bryan's tone was even and firm, "I'm goin' with, she's my Mom."

Sam looked at the young man a few moments before giving him a conceding nod, "A'right, but rest until then, okay?"

"Yes, sir," Bryan smirked in agreement and both Winchesters left his room, Morgan stole one more glance and they shared a smile before she shut the door behind her.

Claire's door was still shut and dark in the crack by the floor as Sam and she made their way back to the kitchen. Dean was washing the pan, a plate of bacon still sat on the island, and he turned the faucet off as they walked in.

"How's the kid?" their older brother asked.

"Trooper," Sam commented, "but he's, uh, hell bent on comin' with us t'day."

"He should," Dean nodded curtly, "if he's up f'r'it."

"I'm gonna check his stitches before we go," Sam told him, "it's the big one on his side I'm worried about."

"He'll be fine," Dean sounded sure, "an' it's his Mom, even if he tears it open, pretty sure he'll think it's worth it."

"Yeah," Sam agreed, chomping a slice of cold bacon.

"How are you?" Dean asked his sister with raised eyebrows.

"M'okay," she shrugged unconvincingly.

"Where's y'r'head at?" he clarified the objective to his question.

"I'm sorry I lied," she repeated.

"You know that's not what caused this, right?" her oldest brother crossed his arms, setting her with a serious expression.

"Yeah," she nodded and speaking in nearly a whisper, "I do, but, I'm just, I still feel guilty for lying."

"Well that's territory we can handle," Dean's smirk made Morgan's stomach turn, but she also felt a strange sense of relief as he continued, "I think we might also need t'have a little talk about listening in dangerous situations, runnin' back in that school was one'a the most foolish things I've ever see you do," Morgan stared at her bare feet as he chastised her, "I realize emotions were runnin' high, but you've gotta think and control y'rself regardless of what's happenin'."

She nodded at the ground, her bottom tingled as both brothers stared down at her, the impending punishment was no surprise.

"Go wait in y'r'room," Sam jerked his head towards the hallway and Morgan followed his order immediately.

With the door shut behind her, the only sound in the room was the ticking of the analog clock on her wall as Morgan sank into her bed, waiting.


	21. Chapter 21

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Spanking scene in this chapter

Morgan sat on her bed, wishing they would get it over with, she deserved it, she knew that, and just wanted it to be done. She'd withheld information from both of them, lied to Sam and ignored their orders to stop when she'd bolted back into the school the day before. Morgan was sure she was in for it, but wanted nothing more than to take the punishment she'd earned, needing their forgiveness to move on from the gut churning guilt.

A solid knock sounded just before her bedroom door opened and both brothers walked in, Morgan's nerves heightened, she had not been expecting both of them. Neither looked angry, but both were very serious.

"Morgan," Dean started straight away with his matching eyes directly focused on hers, "You feel like crap 'cause you screwed up?" she nodded, biting back tears, "Do you feel like you need t'be punished?"

The question was a surprise, she stared between the two of them for a few moments and considered how she felt. Guilty, she felt terrible for lying and had since she'd blatantly said 'I don't know' when asked Bryan's last name. Maybe she'd tried to do her own research, but Sam had asked her a direct question and she had lied to him, intentionally. Slowly, cautiously and sadly, she nodded at them.

"Okay, here's the deal," Dean began, as if he'd expected her response, "Sam's gonna handle your lyin' t'him, 'n then you 'n I are gonna have a chat about the importance of followin' orders. Understood?"

Morgan felt her eyes widen, realizing she was about to be disciplined separately, by both older brothers. Suddenly, she wasn't as eager to get her punishment over, but nodded slowly in understanding. Dean lowered his gaze, clearly waiting for a verbal response.

"Yes, sir," she whispered.

"Good, I'll be back," he told her and gave his brother a hardened expression before leaving the younger two alone.

"I wanna be clear," Sam began, pulling the chair from her desk into the middle of the room, "this is because you lied to me, not because of anything else. But I need t'trust you, 'n you need t'stop feelin' guilty. Right?"

"Yes, sir," she nodded, sliding off her bed, her stomach sinking as he took a seat and whispered her concern, hoping her understanding brother would take pity and move the punishment somewhere else in the massive bunker, "Sam? They can, uh, they'll hear."

"And?" his expression was blank, but he saw her squirming while she shuffled slowly closer and he pulled her between his legs, speaking in a low, firm tone, "This isn't up t'you, Morgan. Jeans, now."

Stifling a whimper, she slid her jeans below her knees and laid herself over Sam's knee, her face flushing with preemptive embarrassment knowing Bryan would be able to hear her getting spanked by her brother down the hall. Sam seemed a bit surprised at her instant willingness, putting a hand on her back and his leg over her calves, he reminded her why she was in the position she was.

"You do not lie to either of us," Sam's voice was hard and Morgan whimpered again as he slid her underwear to meet her jeans, "I'm gonna make sure you remember that."

His hand crashed down in emphasis of his statement and Morgan bit back a cry, hoping she could make it through the entire punishment without wailing like she usually did, mortified that Bryan could undoubtedly hear Sam's open hand swatting against her bare bottom. Hard. Morgan kicked her feet and wriggled on his lap, trying to stay still and not cry out, but her brother's arm wrapped around her torso and she was stuck, unable to avoid the stinging cracks from landing exactly where Sam intended. He must have realized she was holding back and peppered the bottom curve of both cheeks several times until she finally expelled a gasping sob.

"Please, Sam!" Morgan cried as quietly as she could.

He didn't say anything, but picked up the pace a bit and Morgan's behind felt like an inferno, the torrent of tears trying to release finally broke and she sobbed limply over his lap, uncaring who heard. She was sorry she'd lied to him, she never wanted to disappoint Sam and cried harder with every punishing smack.

Sam's hand rose and fell over and over, Morgan couldn't help a broken screech as he changed his focus to the tops of her thighs and undercurve of each cheek.

"I-I'm ssssorrrrrrryyyy!" she pleaded, "Saaa-aam!"

He continued to bring his hand down as she sobbed over his knee, tears splashing on the tile. She felt Sam's arm tighten a bit and whimpered loudly as his hand somehow came down even harder on the sensitive curve to her thighs, but after several extra stinging swats he finally stopped.

Morgan sobbed, breathing heavily, hardly noticing her bottom was no longer being attacked as her brother slid her underwear back over her hips carefully, she hissed when the fabric made contact with her tender skin. Sam flipped her in his lap, cradling her punished behind between his legs and holding her to his chest as the sobs continued, releasing her guilt in wet splotches on his t-shirt.

"I'm sorry," she whispered after her breathing calmed, "I won't lie t'you, I promise. I'm so sorry, Sam."

"Good," he kissed the top of her head, "I really hate doin' that, but you were right, you deserved it. D'you feel a little better?" she nodded into his chest, she truly did feel a weight lifted, and felt him gently tug her chin to meet his hazel eyes, "I forgive you, Morgan, but you ever lie t'me again, this is gonna seem like a walk in the park," she nodded again at him in understanding of his threat, "I love you, Sweetie."

"I love you, Sam," she sniffled into his shirt, the churning in her stomach had gone and she sighed at the release.

For a few minutes, she sat on Sam's lap and just enjoyed the quiet understanding between them, but Morgan knew her part, at least, wasn't done.

"Hey," he patted her leg gently in a silent order to stand, Morgan's stomach dropped as she did, carefully, "Dean'll be in in a minute."

Morgan nodded her understanding, kicking her crumpled jeans into the corner with other dirty clothes, and Sam gave her one more encouraging grin before leaving her bedroom. She wasn't sure how long she'd have to wait for Dean, her bottom already throbbing as she shifted her weight and rubbed her backside, gaining no relief. Only a minute or so after Sam left, Dean's hard knock sounded on her door just before he let himself in and shut it quickly.

"You feel guilty anymore?" he asked pointedly, with concerned eyes and she shook her head at him, "Good, that's over now. You messed up, you paid for it, 'n nothin' else was your fault, right?" she nodded at him in agreement, "But, you still have a problem lettin' your emotions take over your actions, 'n runnin' in that school while you were watchin' us take weapons outta the trunk was about the dumbest thing you could'a done. Truth?" she nodded again, but at the ground in acceptance of his statement, "It made Sam 'n me hafta blow passed organizing a plan 'cause we had to go chase you down, we're lucky we shoot from the hip well, that whole situation could'a been a lot worse, and I know you know better that to do what you did. Don't you?"

"Yes, sir," she mumbled, she hadn't realized the full repercussion of that action, suddenly feeling a bit guilty again at the situation she'd put her brothers in without realizing. She did know better than to run away from them, especially if they were clearly preparing for a fight, and she'd vaguely heard them telling her to stop. Morgan's bottom throbbed harder at the impending punishment for breaking such a well-founded family rule.

"With all that being said," Dean continued, "I think you've already had a pretty rough last day 'n while you deserved every bit of that with Sam, I've taken all of it into consideration," his hands dropped to his belt buckle and Morgan's stomach dropped as he pulled the thick black leather from the loops, "Dad had a real simple policy on disobeying durin' a hunt, one for every year, more if y'really screwed up, but I'm halvin' it, I think you've learned your lesson, this is a reminder. But I promise, this is the last time I'll be lenient about it. Am I clear?"

"Yes, sir," she nodded, watching him fold the belt in half twice as he sat in the chair Sam had recently vacated.

Dean didn't need to pull her closer to him, Morgan took the two steps to her brother and acceptingly laid over his knee, feeling her legs trapped immediately and cringed, knowing, while short, this punishment was going to be harsh. Just as Sam had, Dean pulled her underwear down to her knees before he began, wrapping an arm around her middle, snugging her into his large frame, Morgan was helplessly pinned as she felt the cool leather rest on her sensitive bare behind.

There was no further scolding as the belt lifted and a moment later hot pain exploded across both cheeks and she clutched his calf while crying out from the pain. Another stripe of biting agony crossed just above the first and she couldn't help kicking her feet, not that it made any difference to her position as Dean held her firmly and brought the belt down across the undercurve Sam had paid so much attention to earlier.

"Nooooo pleeeaaase, Deee-aaan!" she sobbed, her voice breaking as she cried his name while another flash of leather splayed across her bottom.

He said nothing, but brought the belt down again, on the tops of her thighs and Morgan screeched, digging her nails into the denim surrounding his ankle. Her backside had already been throbbing from Sam, but every cut of the leather was taking the fire in her behind to a higher level. Again, the belt crashed down and she sobbed, defeated, limp over his knee as it came down twice more in quick succession, followed by the clinking of the buckle as the belt dropped to the ground.

Dean was careful as he slid her underwear back over her very sore bottom, but Morgan still whimpered when the fabric made contact, burying her tearstained face in her brother's shirt the moment he flipped her on his lap. His large hand rubbing up and down her back was a great comfort, reminding her it was all over, she was forgiven and he still loved her.

"A'right," Dean kissed her head after a few minutes and gave her a small smile, "Why don't you lay down for a bit? We gotta take care of some stuff at Bryan's house," hearing his name made Morgan's stomach drop remembering he was still down the hall, "we'll be back in a few hours. I'm gonna call 'n have you check on Jenny, though, she's just about better."

"Jenny?" Morgan said the name aloud as she realized Miss Ellet had been directly across the hall in Dean's room and had also heard everything, she wouldn't have been surprised if her face was the same color as her bottom at that moment.

"She's been mostly asleep," Dean assured her, though it didn't make Morgan feel any less embarrassed, "We'll be back later, just keep your phone on."

She nodded, sliding carefully off his lap as he stood and set the chair under the desk. Dean picked his belt off the ground and threaded it back through his jeans, staring at her with raised eyebrows.

"This is over," he told her firmly, "I love the crap outta you kid, don't scare me like that."

She couldn't help a small grin as he pulled her into his strong arms, "I love you, too, Dean," he planted one more, quick kiss on her hair before releasing her and leaving her bedroom.

Morgan slowly crawled onto her bed and, when the door shut and she was alone, gingerly slid her underwear down to her knees, ridding her punished behind of the irritating cloth. Her backside was on fire, she was sure it would be days before she would sit without feeling the sting, not even wanting to evaluate the damage in her mirror, Morgan knew from the middle of her bottom to the tops of her thighs was an angry red. Her stomach, however, did not feel heavy, while a twinge of embarrassment was subsiding, her guilt had been alleviated and she smiled to herself, closing her eyes and drifting into darkness.

Morgan woke as Smoke on the Water blared from her phone speaker and Dean's name flashed on the screen, she slid a sleepy finger across to answer, "Hey."

"Hey, sleepin'?" he asked.

"Little nap," she mumbled.

"Sorry I woke you," he sounded genuine in the apology, "Can you bring Jenny some water, please? See if she needs anything else."

"Yeah," Morgan nodded, rubbing sleep from her eyes, "when will you be home?"

"We're about done gettin' everything he needs outta here," Dean told her, "Bryan's just, uh, sayin' good-bye 'n then we're gonna finish up."

Morgan understood 'finish up' meant burning her corpse, a hunter's funeral for a hunter's wife. She imagined Bryan standing by the pyre of his mother's body and felt her throat tighten at the image.

"Don't forget about Jenny," Dean reminded, "And could y'defrost some steaks for later?"

"Yeah, no problem," she told him and they said good-bye before hanging up the phone.

Miss Ellet was curled up on Dean's bed, facing the wall under his blankets in the dark. Morgan didn't turn the light on, but left the door open so the hallway could brighten her way, she saw one of his pillows on the floor as she approached the bed.

"Miss Ellet?" she whispered, setting a glass of ice water on the nightstand, the teacher hardly stirred, "It's Morgan, I, uh, brought you some water."

The pretty blonde woman turned, her face was pale and her eyes were bloodshot as she slowly blinked them open, Morgan forced her expression to stay neutral.

"Thank you," Miss Ellet whispered, reaching for the water with a shaky hand and Morgan handed it to her, hovering a hand underneath as she took an unstable sip.

"Can I get you anything else?" she asked quietly, the room felt like a place that should be whispered in at the moment.

"I'm actually starving," the pretty woman's mouth curled a bit.

"There's prob'lly some bacon from earlier," Morgan started, "or, uh, I can make you somethin'."

"Cold bacon sounds awesome," Miss Ellet nodded, sitting up and moving her legs under the blanket.

"I'll bring it," she assured her, putting up her hands to stop the teacher's exit from the bed, "Would you like anything else? Orange juice, coffee?"

"Oh my God, coffee would be amazing," the blonde woman sighed, leaning back on the pillow, "Thank you, Morgan. You, and your brothers."

"I'm glad you're safe, Miss Ellet," Morgan's voice broke a little as her throat tightened.

"Please," the teacher smiled, "call me Jenny."

Morgan smiled back at her as she left the room. She was happy her teacher was safe, but a bit saddened at the reminder she wasn't her teacher anymore, Morgan knew she was never going back to that school. Clearly, so did Jenny.

"So," Jenny munched bacon from the platter Dean had made earlier, a hot mug of coffee sat on the nightstand, the water all but forgotten, "your family hunts monsters?"

"Yeah, pretty much," Morgan nodded, shifting her weight slightly as she leaned against Dean's dresser.

"That's just," the pretty woman chewed a moment, "crazy."

She couldn't help a small grin, "It's been said."

"Really, though," Jenny shook her head, "it's amazing, seriously. What thanks do any of you get for what you do?"

Morgan shrugged, she didn't do anything, her brothers and Claire were the real heroes, "It's just what they do, saving people, hunting things."

"And Bryan's family too?" she asked after another swallow of coffee.

"They, uh, were, yeah," Morgan said sadly, staring at her feet.

"What're the chances, in the same school, the same class?" Jenny's excitement seemed to make her oblivious to Morgan's disinterest in the topic.

"Yeah, well," the young girl shrugged, taking the empty plate from the woman, "my life's pretty much just one jackpot coincidence after another."

Morgan was relieved Jenny didn't seem to have a response as she left the room with the empty platter, checking on the frozen steaks she'd put in the sink to defrost under cold water. Steaks were for two occasions, celebrations and grieving. Morgan knew there was nothing to celebrate.


	22. Chapter 22

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ladies and gentlemen may I introduce... The King. 
> 
> "Mr. Crowley, what went on in your head?  
> Oh, Mr. Crowley, did you talk to the dead?  
> Your life style to me seemed so tragic  
> With the thrill of it all  
> You fooled all the people with magic  
> Yeah, you waited on Satan's call"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you missed the first warning, or I forgot to put it out there, I am using some stuff from season 12 only in the sense of characters they introduced that had "behind the scenes" stuff going on in earlier seasons that we didn't know about- yeah okay I may have gone a little overboard trying to shove canon in here, but I think it works- Idk you tell me...

Jenny had fallen back asleep when Morgan returned to check on her a little while later before returning to lying face down on her bed, her bottom still throbbed with dull pain. Even though she knew she'd never go back to Mr. Kirk's class, Morgan continued pouring through the end of her history text book for lack of a better distraction. She didn't know what to do with the text messages from her teammates. Ex-teammates. What could be said? 'I'm sorry I missed the most important game of the year because our teachers were vampires and killing the guy I have a crush on in the school basement, but it's okay because my brothers kill monsters for a living'. Honesty was probably not the best policy in the current circumstance and she finally decided to continue ignoring the messages.

Finally, she heard low voices and heavy footsteps in the tiled hallway of the bunker. Slowly sliding her feet to the floor, Morgan left her room to find the others. No one was in the hallway and their muffled voices grew louder as she walked towards the library.

"Look, I appreciate your concern," Bryan's tone was firm as she approached the open room, realizing they were in the library, "but this isn't a fight I'm runnin' from, not anymore."

"Kid," Dean's voice matched the hardness in the younger man's, "you get in this, you don't get out, like ever, you don't get a real life, you fight 'til you die and that'll be a lot sooner than later in this job."

"I am in this," Bryan retorted, Morgan stayed close to the wall in the hallway, listening intently, "I've always been in this, I was born into this, I'm done hidin' from it. Fighting is the only option, 'n I'd like to not start now, with you, but if you're gonna try 'n stop me that's where we're gonna end up."

Morgan's stomach twisted with nerves at the confident challenge Bryan set on her brother, a man she was sure would never lose a fight and hoped he didn't accept. Sighing quietly with relief when her typically more reasonable brother broke in with an even tone.

"Dean," Sam interjected calmly, "let it go, for now¸ Bryan, I'm in full agreement with him, but right now you need to heal, no body's fightin' anything 'n you certainly aren't with that stitch ripped open," there was silence for a few moments, "A'right, good, now drop it, both of you."

"Bryan, c'mon," Claire sounded sweet and Morgan heard steps descending the library stairs, "let's get'cha cleaned up."

Morgan took a deep breath and walked into the open room as if she hadn't halted her progress to eavesdrop the almost argument. Bryan's hand was gripped tightly to the railing as he struggled a bit on each step, Claire wasn't supporting him, but hovered closely by his side. A patch of blood was seeping through the side of his t-shirt and she couldn't help covering her mouth trying to hide her shocked horror. When he saw her, a small smile graced his pale face.

"Hey," his tone lost all hardness as he addressed her.

"Hey," she smiled back, focusing on his handsome face instead of the blood stain.

"Well that was an enthralling conversation," Claire commented after a few moments of silence, "C'mon, we gotta get that cut cleaned."

"Least there's still some scotch," he raised his eyebrows at Morgan, earning a small giggle as he let the blonde lead him slowly down the hallway.

"Morgan," Dean's deep voice called from the top of the stairs.

"Yeah?" she grimaced taking a few of the steps, finding the incline uncomfortable for her sore backside, but pulled herself up the stairs.

"How's Jenny?" Dean asked, Sam pulled her head towards him, giving her a quick kiss on her dark hair as he moved passed, leaving the library with two large duffel bags slung across his chest.

"Seems okay," Morgan shrugged, "had some bacon 'n coffee 'n went back t'sleep."

He nodded at her response, raising his eyebrows with a little hidden concern, "An' how 'r you?"

"Okay," she nodded and gave him a tiny, tightlipped smile, "lil sore."

"I bet," he scoffed lightly.

"How was Bryan's 'n, everything?" she asked timidly.

"Got what he needs," Dean told her, "said his good-byes, but he's kinda bein' a pain in the ass about goin' to a safe house when he's healed up."

"Can you blame him?" Morgan knew her question was borderline insubordinate, but asked it anyway, relieved when Dean's expression acknowledged his true understanding of the younger man.

"No, but I'd still like t'try 'n keep him from killin' himself if I can," he said.

"I appreciate that," Morgan smirked.

"He's a good kid," Dean admitted, "stubborn as hell, though."

"That sounds like something you can understand," she smiled as he chuckled with a conceding nod.

"Seems to have a good head on his shoulders," Dean shrugged, "considering everything that's happened I'm surprised he's stayed so level headed."

"So maybe you shouldn't try 'n keep him away from hunting," Morgan offered quietly.

Dean narrowed his eyes a little, "He's young and smart, and I'd've thought after everything you've seen, watchin' Sam 'n me for months on one endless hunt after another, you'd want better for Bryan than this life."

Her stomach twisted at his words and she felt her sore bottom throb again as he continued staring at her with a no nonsense look, Morgan nodded, unable to find a response and hoped her quiet understanding gesture would suffice. He nodded curtly, apparently satisfied she'd gotten his point.

"D'ja take those steaks out?" Dean changed the subject and she nodded as he pulled his ringing phone from his jeans pocket, Morgan couldn't help a tiny smirk seeing '666' across the screen before he slid his finger to answer and walked passed her down the stairs, "What? – He's been a bit MIA lately, why? – Crowley, live under a bridge with y'r'goddamn riddles," he growled, "What the hell are you talking about?" Dean left down the hallway towards the garage and his voice faded quickly.

Morgan wondered what Crowley was calling Dean about as she slowly shuffled back down the opposite hall towards the kitchen. Sam was walking out of Bryan's room, free of the overstuffed duffels, and smiled at her as he approached, walking into the kitchen together.

"Bryan's a strong guy," Sam told her, poking at the steaks in the sink, "it wasn't an easy day, I could tell it was hard on him, but he really stepped up."

"Yeah," Morgan nodded, "I can't imagine."

"Dean comin' in?" Sam glanced at the doorway, pulling the steaks from the cool water and shaking drops off the plastic wrapping before tossing them on the counter.

"Crowley called," she told him and Sam whipped his head at her with a concerned expression.

"Why?" his tone hardened.

"I'm sure you'll find out," Morgan shrugged, "he walked off towards the garage."

Sam took a few steps towards the doorway just as Dean entered the kitchen, his expression was concerning, narrow eyes and flared nostrils were a sure sign their older brother was either moments from an explosion or had recently had one.

"Can I talk t'you?" he growled, jerking his head at Sam to follow him and they both exited towards their bedrooms.

Morgan wanted to know what was going on, Dean was obviously worried or angry about something, but as the door to Sam's room shut, she knew it was bad idea to push her luck by trying to overhear them. Peeling the plastic apart on each steak, she set all six around a large platter, sprinkling them with salt on both sides. Dean was insistent that a good piece of meat didn't need a bunch of spices or sauce and none of the Winchesters were fans of pepper. Dean had a beautiful Weber grill set up in the garage and loved pulling the doors open while searing up a few steaks, it was nice to see him relaxed and smiling every time he heard the sizzle of raw meat hitting the hot irons.

A sudden loud yell, unmistakably Sam's, startled her as she set the salt back on the shelf.

"Sam! Wait!" Dean barked as the door flew open and a moment later Sam stormed into the kitchen looking furious.

"We're done with the secret crap, Dean!" Sam challenged loudly, turning on his brother as Dean stomped in behind him, "Keeping each other in the dark is what we just said we weren't gonna do!"

"Jeezus, Sam!" Dean yelled at full volume, "I'm not gonna keep this from her! But I thought you 'n I could have a goddamn conversation about it first! If I knew you were gonna go off like this I'd've just told her first! Keep your damn head on, Sam!"

Sam still seethed with anger and worry, but said nothing, silently conceding to his brother and Morgan took the opportunity to find out what they were concerned about.

"What the hell is going on?" she didn't yell, but made her tone as firm as she could.

Dean's head dipped and he pointed to the table, "Sit down, Morgan."

"I'd rather not," she said, catching a small smirk her brothers shared.

"Okay, yeah," Dean nodded, "Look, I, uh, found out what's goin' on with Cas, there's, uh, well we have a problem."

"What?" Morgan insisted.

"You have demons on your trail, darling," a gravelly accent sent shivers down her spine as Morgan and her brothers turned to Crowley sitting at their kitchen table, "Princes of Hell, actually, a bit more nerve wracking than your average black-eyed Joe."

"Princes of Hell?" she repeated slowly, feeling Dean's strong arm around her shoulders.

"Quite," the King of Hell nodded slowly, "A small, powerful group, the oldest demons after Lilith, hand formed by Lucifer himself. They've enjoyed solitude for centuries, even turning the other cheek when your brother here killed their brother," all three Winchesters inclined their heads at the demon identically, "Azazel ring a bell?" Dean's hand gripped her shoulder a little tighter, "While they accepted his death was due to his obsession with a plan they all thought was a lost cause, murdering their master was not an attack they're willing to let go unpunished."

"So we've got a team of yellow-eyes on our asses?" Dean growled, "Great. How many?"

"You've already taken care of Azazel," Crowley reminded, "So that leaves Ramiel, Dagon and Asmodeous."

"Three," Sam shrugged, "doesn't seem so bad."

"You remember what it took t'kill yellow-eyes?" Dean scoffed and Sam hung his head a little, nodding slowly.

"Why are you telling us this?" Morgan narrowed her eyes at Crowley, watching a snide grin grow across his lips.

"You know I have a bit of a soft spot for you my little witch," he nearly crooned.

"I'm not a witch anymore," she reminded him, feeling a pang of longing in her gut as she said the words.

"Doesn't mean you can't be again," he smirked and she felt Dean's hand tighten again as a flutter emanated in her stomach.

"What-" she began.

"No," Dean interjected firmly, "no damn deals, no demon magic, not happenin'. Can we get back to the problem at hand?"

"No one said anything about demon magic," Crowley said simply, "and having a witch on your team has proved useful in the past, one could argue the issues are related."

No one spoke, but Morgan slowly glanced up at her oldest brother through her long eyelashes, almost pleadingly, trying to decipher his thoughts. However, two distinctly different inhales from the doorway changed the Winchesters' focus to Bryan and Claire. The blonde looked surprised at the formerly familiar presence, the young man, however, glared at Crowley, his shoulders lowered.

Everything happened quickly as the demon smiled back and flashed his red eyes at the newcomer, Dean hardly had a chance to push Morgan out of the way and wrap his arms around the young man before Bryan barreled towards Crowley, who remained unmoved with the same snarky grin. Sam helped his brother restrain the wildly angry teenager as Bryan actually roared in frustration.

"Easy Simba," the demon chuckled, "Timon, Pumba, call off your cat."

"C'mon, kid, it's okay, really," Dean pulled him back, keeping himself between Bryan and Crowley.

"Really?!" Bryan spat, "It's okay!? There's a fucking demon in y'r'kitchen!"

"King of Hell, actually," Crowley waved, "Morgan, darling, is this your boyfriend?"

"CROWLEY!" Sam and Dean barked together as Morgan blushed madly and turned away from the smiling demon.

"What's going on?" Claire questioned the entire room in the momentary break from chaos.

"We'll talk about it later," Dean growled around the young man he was still keeping from approaching on Crowley.

"No! I'd like t'know why the King of Hell is sitting at a hunter's table like he's invited t'dinner," Bryan growled right back.

"Kid," Dean sighed, "sometimes, in this life, things aren't always black and white."

"Sir," Bryan bit his words out slowly, "that's crap. My father taught me if it's a monster, you kill it. Ghosts, vampires, witches, find 'em, kill 'em."

Morgan felt her throat tighten, tears stinging her eyes and before she could stop herself a sob broke passed her lips, bolting from the kitchen to the safety of her bedroom. The moment Crowley had mentioned regaining her powers she'd felt elated at the idea and Bryan's words had stabbed her in the heart that for most of her life had known the pulse of magic.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Man I love writing that snarky sonuvabitch!


	23. Chapter 23

A soft knock on her door told Morgan who was on the other side before Sam walked in, shutting it quickly behind his entrance. He looked saddened, obviously understanding the emotional storm out she'd just had, but unsure what to say and simply sat on her bed, pulling the sobbing girl into his chest. Her brother's large hand rubbing her back alleviated a little of her internal pain, remembering she had two wonderful men who loved her unconditionally, but Bryan's words about killing witches echoed in her mind and she sobbed again. Sam held her tighter and Morgan felt him kiss the top of her head as she poured more tears onto his flannel pathetically.

"Sweetie," Sam tried, "Sweetie, please, he doesn't know," he shushed her cries, but she continued sobbing, "Morgan, listen, please," her cries were too hard for him to continue and simply rubbed up and down her back as she released fears and anxiety in a wet splotch on his shirt.

Bryan had sounded resolute on his opinion of all supernatural beings requiring the same fate, and she wept as her emotions clashed between the boy she'd developed feelings for and her prayers to have magic again.

"S-sam," Morgan hiccupped, "I, I don't know," she tried, wiping tears from her cheeks as she gently pushed away from him, "C-crowley said-"

"Morgan," Sam sighed, "Crowley's a demon-"

"I know," she insisted, biting back another sob, "but I was a witch, and I misssss it," she sobbed uncontrollably again into his chest as he wrapped his strong arms around her.

"Sweetie," he tried, but had nothing else to offer except physical comfort.

For a few minutes, Morgan simply cried in her brother's arms, uncaring if anyone heard her, too distraught in her own thoughts, finally running out of energy and sniffling softly into the soft material of Sam's shirt. A hard knock on her door made both of their heads turn as Dean slid into the room.

"Everyone's calm," he assured Morgan more than Sam, "but of you both need t'come listen t'Crowley, wow, I can't believe I just said that," Dean scoffed.

"You straighten that kid out?" Sam asked harshly and Morgan bit back another sob feeling a strange pang of guilt.

"We came to an understanding," Dean assured them both and Sam patted her back encouragingly.

"C'mon," he jerked his head towards their older brother by the door, "you got this."

She took a deep breath, wiping tears from her eyes, "Yeah, okay."

"Morgan," Dean's tone was serious, "He's been a stubborn lil asshole, you say the word 'n I'll lock him in the dungeon."

"I love you for offering," she giggled at him.

"Code word's pancakes if y'change y'r'mind," Dean chuckled and Morgan beamed at him.

Sam stood from her bed, tugging her hand a little, encouraging her to stand and she followed Dean into the hallway with Sam close behind.

Bryan was leaning against the farthest wall in the kitchen from Crowley, still sitting at the table with a grin on his face, though a glass of scotch had appeared in front of him, Claire stood between them with a slightly defensive posture towards the young man. He glanced at Morgan as she and her brothers reentered the kitchen, but looked away quickly, her stomach twisted again, but she forced herself to hold it together. For Chuck's sake, she was a Winchester.

"Darling," Crowley began, addressing Morgan with his most velvety voice, "let me begin by saying," he glanced at Bryan glowering at him from the wall near the doorway, "you can do much better."

"Crowley!" both brothers growled together, Dean and Claire stepping in front of Bryan before he had a chance to move.

"I'm just saying," the demon put his hands up defensively, "she's a beautiful girl, alright, alright," he trailed off as Sam approached him ominously, "not the point, you're right. So, the Princes of Hell are out for revenge, and, to answer your question darling, beyond, yes, I will admit, you tug at the grayest of the black in my non-existent heart, but they're recruiting my demons, my army, you can imagine this makes me look like less of a leader, a commander, a-"

"King?" Bryan scoffed meanly from the wall and Crowley glowered at him so hard Morgan stepped directly in front of the demon, mostly sure he wouldn't hurt her.

"Crowley," Morgan leveled him with puffy, but confident eyes, "what's going on? And where is Cas?"

Dean cleared his throat behind her and the demon glanced at him before looking back at the young girl and answering, "If you haven't been listening, you're being hunted by the most powerful and resourceful demons Hell has ever had, Lucifer's first in command, the only reason I'm telling any of you is because it's been a few weeks now and they're starting to disrupt how I do business. Your angel friend was captured by them, yesterday, I figured I'd mention it since I was stopping by, I'm not sure of his status, I do know they were holding him at a warehouse outside of Chicago."

"Why Chicago?" Morgan interjected quickly, it seemed a strange coincidence.

"Chicago has always been a haven of misdeeds," Crowley smirked wickedly, "Its run by some of the most powerful monster families in the world," a quick glance at her brothers in the brief silence after his proclamation confirmed this fact before the demon continued, "Not to mention, has been a secret meeting place for the important remaining members of the Grand Coven that was run out of Europe by the Men of Letters, in fact, one of them would like very much to meet you. On neutral ground, of course."

Morgan stared at him, a buzz filling her ears as even Crowley's smug face went out of focus, completely absorbed in her own thoughts, realizing why she'd always lived within an hour or so of the city, occasionally spending a few weeks at a time wandering the busy streets while her Mother disappeared for days.

"What does Cas have to do with this? Where in Chicago is he?" Dean demanded.

"Your lovebird didn't confide his motives to me, Squirrel, all I know is what I've heard around the water cooler and seen with my own eyes. I simply know that's where they took him," Crowley said innocently, "I have no idea if he's still there."

"Is Cas bein' in Chicago, water cooler talk 'r somethin' you've seen with y'r'own eyes?" Dean challenged.

"I saw him in Hell briefly after they caught him," Crowley admitted, "Did a bit of a number on him, the Chicago bit I've heard from sources, reliable sources."

Dean's expression didn't change as he turned to Sam and they began whispering to each other, their sister took the exclusion as an opportunity.

Morgan approached slowly on the demon, leaning over the table so only he could hear her, "You settin' me up?"

"Darling, never," he scoffed quietly and she leveled him with a challenging glare, "I swear, whatever I can do to help, I need these animals out of my kingdom."

"Can you really help me get my powers back?" she whispered, her tone changed quickly from harsh to pleading.

"Not yours no," his volume matched hers as he dipped his head a bit and Morgan felt a presence behind her, "but good enough, especially with your brilliance," he winked and said the last few words loud enough for the room to hear, she blushed a bit at his compliment while confused at the overall answer.

"How soon can we head t'Chicago?" Morgan turned her head to Dean, lingering behind her.

"You ain't goin' anywhere," he scoffed, narrowing his eyes at the immediate scowl she gave him.

"I'm going," she said flatly, "Y'r'not goin' t'Chicago, to a place that clearly has some meaning in my life, in my past, and not taking me."

"That's exactly why we're not takin' you!" he barked.

"We'll talk about it later," Sam interjected loudly, "as a family."

"There's nothin' t'talk about," Dean insisted bitterly.

"To be clear," Crowley interrupted, "it would be a pointless trip without her, yes, yes, I understand, family meeting conversation and all, but, that witch I told you about doesn't want to meet you, or Sasquatch, she wants to meet Ceralia's daughter. They may be your only hope, I can't promise they'll fight, actually I can almost assure you they won't, but to find what you need, they're the only ones who can help."

Sam and Dean looked at each other for a few moments before simultaneously changing their focus to Morgan and sighing in sync.

"So," Crowley piped up, "I can count on flannel family to swoop in and help save the day?"

"We're the target Crowley," Dean growled, "Don't have much of a choice do we?"

The demon smirked, downing the last of his scotch, closed his fist and the glass disappeared, "Glad you see the urgency at least, darling, I'm only a phone call away, boys, keep your new protégé in line, he might get himself hurt," and with a final glare at Bryan, Crowley snapped his fingers and vanished from the kitchen.

The room was silent following his departure, Morgan's heart raced as she thought of looking at Bryan, but finally gained the courage and turned just in time to see him leaving the kitchen. Sam followed him and Dean was quick on their heels as Claire and Morgan glanced at each other before bolting down the hallway to follow the men. Bryan had nearly reached the bedroom he was using, though each step was clearly painful even from several feet behind him, the young man clutched his side gingerly as he threw open the door. Sam and Dean slipped in right behind him and one of them slammed the door.

The girls skidded to a stop, simultaneously pressing their ears to the closed door, not that they'd needed to with the volume of the conversation on the other side.

"I'm outta here," Bryan barked, "y'all ain't stoppin' me."

"Bryan you can't even lift those bags," Sam insisted after an agonizing groan.

"Kid," Dean growled, "y'r'not goin' anywhere, put'cher shit down 'n listen f'r'thirty fuckin' seconds 'cause I ain't got time t'repeat myself!"

"Listen t'what?" the young man accosted, "There was a demon sittin' here like he's got a key to the front door! Monsters are monsters!"

"Yeah?!" Dean argued loudly, "So that girl out there, the one who was wracked with guilt from accidentally being part of why those vampires got their hands on you-"

"She shouldn't-" Bryan tried.

"Shut up," Dean snapped, "we took care of it, she's knows it wasn't her fault now, but my sister is one of the kindest people I've ever met even after the childhood she suffered through. But all monsters need to die, right?"

"She's not-" Bryan's voice sounded weaker with every attempt Dean cut off.

"Morgan was born a witch," Dean said simply, "was destined to be the most powerful one in the world until a couple months ago and she lost her magic, you have no idea how painful that was for her, for us watching her deal with that, but she's still the same amazing, kindhearted girl she was with powers. So should she die? Should we've killed our sister because she was born with powers? Shouldn't Missouri have died?"

"Don't talk about Missouri," Bryan growled, "No, neither, they're both, it's different!"

"Exactly," Dean continued, "it ain't just black 'n white. There are times we've gotta work in the gray area for the greater good overall, this isn't y'r'average monster hunt, kid, we save the world."

Silence followed the proclamation and Morgan appreciated Claire's hand squeezing her fingers, just a reminder she was there.

"So, Morgan's a witch?" Bryan asked slowly, breaking the silence after several moments.

"Was," Sam clarified.

"Will she be again?" the young man questioned.

Sam said 'maybe' as Dean said 'no' and Morgan smiled a little at Sam's answer, leaving the possibility of talking to him about regaining her magic on the conversational table.

"What's important right now, is you need to heal and I need t'go save my best friend, so I can kill him myself," Dean mumbled the last bit, "Get comfy, kid, when you can stand f'r'longer than five minutes without passin' out y'r'free t'go, 'n truthfully, with the attitude you've got, you'll be the most average of the mediocre hunters to die before thirty. My sister was a mess over what happened to you, because regardless of whether she was born with powers or not, she's a good person, way too good f'r'you."

Claire pulled Morgan back quickly as the door flung open and Dean narrowed his eyes at the pair while exiting the bedroom, jerking his head for them to follow him down the hallway. She caught Sam's eyes, trying to hang back and peer into the room, Bryan was leaning against his dresser, but Morgan quickened her steps to follow Dean's brooding shoulders down the hallway. He continued passed the kitchen to the open room and through into the opposite hall towards the garage, turning down the path leading to the dungeon. Morgan knew it was simply her remembering the feeling that made her spine shivered as they crossed the threshold, no longer able to detect the powerful spell warding surrounding the room.

Her brother said nothing as pushed open a door across from the multi-purpose storage room, leaving it open in silent gesture for the two girls to continue following him. It was another storage room, brighter and clearly didn't have a hidden room behind the brick walls. Filing cabinets and dusty bookshelves lined the room, covered with random artifacts, everything meticulously cataloged and tagged. Dean grabbed a large ledger from a small table near the door while Claire and Morgan shared an unsure glance.

"Morgan," he barely glanced at her as he flipped through the first few pages, "Do you remember the names of those books Cas took?"

"The demon ones?" she knew it was a stupid question as it fell out of her mouth and shook her head as Dean sighed, quickly answering, "Uh, the first one was, uh, Satanici qui Compendium and the second was Satanico sint duo Compendium. Why?"

"I'm tryin' t'figure out what he was lookin' for," Dean flipped faster through the pages, "He thought he could take them on alone, he always does this shit," her brother seemed to be mumbling more to himself than either of the girls, "and now I gotta go find him, pull him out 'n kick his goddamn ass."

"Dean," Morgan's throbbing bottom reminded her this was not the time, but couldn't chance losing an opportunity to make her request, "Chicago isn't ironic," she swallowed hard as he slowly raised narrow eyes at her, but mustered her courage to continue, "Please, let me come, please, I just."

"It's not ironic," he said calmly as her words trailed away, "And as much as I hate the idea I think you need to come with," she felt her eyes widen in shock as Dean continued, "Crowley made a few points, and with the witch, I mean if we're goin' there anyway we might as well kill as many birds as we can," Morgan furrowed her brow in a silent question and he obliged quickly with an answer, "It might not just be the yellow-eyed freaks after us."

"You mean after me?" she nodded slowly.

"Us," he said firmly, "Trust me, Sam 'n I've had a price on our heads a lot longer than you."

"So why take her with us?" Claire demanded.

"She stays with me," Dean's tone was not to be contended with, "You're stayin' here 'n takin' care'a the kid."

"That's bull-"

"HEY!" Dean's bark made both of them jump, "I'm not arguing with you! Your orders are to stay here and help him get better! Is that understood?"

"Y-yes, sir," Claire managed to get the words out before obviously biting back a sob and bolting from the room.

Morgan didn't say anything and Dean returned his attention to the ledger, slowing to a page and running his finger down it until he stopped and snapped the large volume shut, making her jump a little again. He sighed heavily, his forehead creased with stress, Morgan's stomach twisted thinking she hadn't seen him look like that since they were on the run from Lucifer.

"Pack a bag, quickly," he told her, "and, uh, grab one'a your Mother's old books, the, uh Gungnir book, and don't forget-"

"Why?" Morgan demanded quietly, her blood running cold as he used a name she hadn't heard or spoken in longer than she could remember, "How do you know that name?"

"Just do it," he jerked his head at the door.

"No," she said firmly, squaring her shoulders as he did, "y'r'gonna tell me."

Her backside pulsed with pain again as he scowled intimidatingly down at her, but she refused to relent her ground.

With a heavy sigh, Dean conceded, "There's a chance, according t'Crowley, but it sounds like a good chance, whatever witches are left up there, Ceralia's old coven buddies, we might be able t'get their help, protection, with the right collateral."

"Dean, no," she whispered in horror, "I can't, her books, my books, not that one, the bok Gungnir is the oldest book in my family, she said Odin himself gave our greatest ancestor the pages, sliced the paper from the handle of his spear Gungnir, it's the most important, I can't," she'd started breathing heavily as the words poured from her and tears slipped down her cheeks.

Dean refused to let her push him away, holding his strong arms around her tightly and shushing her moment of panic.

"I'm sorry, Morgan, please," he stroked her hair back with a large hand, "Sweetie, I'm sorry, please listen to me though, please, it's not worth your life. Crowley said one of them will talk to us, we have to try."

"Who?" Morgan whispered.

"Sophie Petit," Dean said the words questioningly and Morgan thought hard on the faintly recognizable name, "She's been in the Grand Coven a long time, sounds like she's pretty old, look I don't trust it 'n we're gonna be on full alert, but if half of what he's said today is true," he sighed sadly, "we're gonna need all the help we can get."

Nodding slowly at him, Morgan couldn't help another sob at the idea of handing the bok Gungnir to anyone, it was a book she knew was irreplaceable, a treasure in the magical world, her last tie to a part of her she'd always hated and now missed dearly.


	24. Chapter 24

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sweet home Chicago!

Morgan threw clothes into her duffel bag, the bok Gungnir sitting on her bed, she was finding it a challenge to pack. The dark purple volume was embossed with a silver valknut, aged, but never worn, thick with centuries of magical knowledge, spells and potions created by generation after generation of Odin's descendants, her ancestors. The idea of handing it over to anyone, even in the hopes they'll help with a problem that had her brother terrified, a man she thought knew no fear, was so painful her eyes continued to swim with tears.

Sam burst in as she had shoved the last of her clothes in the bag and was assessing the bok Gungnir with heavy contemplation.

"You're staying," he said firmly as soon as the door shut and Morgan's emotions burst with confusion, frustration and sadness into a sobbing scream he was unprepared for, but instantly approached as she sank to the floor in huddled defeat, "Morgan, I know this is too much," he pulled her up, keeping his strong arms around her.

"Sam, I h-have to," she forced out, "I h-have to know."

"It's too dangerous," Sam shook his head, "I know Dean said-"

"Sam," Morgan whispered, "listen-"

"Morgan, he's not thinking straight," he tried.

"No, he's right," she nodded, "I have to meet with this witch, S-sam, I have to, I just know I do," Morgan calmed her breathing quickly and stared up at him with determination, "I can't explain it other than I know that name, I'm not afraid, maybe I should be, but there's something for me in Chicago and you guys need to go get Cas."

Sam's expression was of hidden shock, clearly impressed with how quickly she'd collected and explained herself, nodding slowly after a few moments, "Alright, I don't like it, but he thinks y'r'safer with us, which I don't entirely disagree with, and if you feel it's a trip you need to make," he took a deep breath, "guess we're meetin' the Grand Coven."

"I can't stomach handing this other though," she stroked the book with her fingers, tracing the silver symbol.

Before Sam could offer his opinion on the bok Gungnir, Dean opened the door, standing in the hall with his duffel bag slung over his shoulder. With a heavy sigh and a strange grimace, he looked at Sam.

"I forgot Jenny was here," the oldest nearly whispered.

"You forgot there's a woman in your bed?" Sam chuckled quietly.

"Shut up," Dean scoffed, "She's uh, guess she's not feelin' super great, feverish, but Claire's gonna look in on her."

"Sure she's thrilled about that," Morgan mumbled, feeling bad for her friend.

"She'll do it," Dean growled, "We have t'go, like now. Are you two ready?"

"I gotta grab a few things," Sam left the room and Morgan returned her attention to the purple book she couldn't bear to pack.

"Sweetie," Dean put a hand on her shoulder, "I know-"

"You don't," she said quietly, shaking her head, "this is a piece of me, Dean, I can't-"

"Look," he lowered his tone, "I don't know what to expect here, Crowley just said it might go a long way to gain their trust, maybe they don't even want it-"

Morgan scoffed at the insult, holding the precious volume closer, "Of course they want it, every witch wants the bok Gungnir, if it's on the table, they'll snatch it."

"Morgan," Dean sighed, "I'm sorry, I promise, we won't just offer it, we'll see what this Petit lady has t'say first. Okay?"

She nodded sadly at him, knowing he was simply trying to pacify her, but also felt she had very little choice, crying about it certainly wasn't going to help matters.

"A'right, I'm gettin' the car ready, hurry up," Dean said and turned to the open door, stopping when he saw the young man leaning against the frame, growling an instant warning, "Kid-"

"Sir, let me speak, please," Bryan pled, "I, I was wrong, Morgan, I'm sorry, I never wanna upset you-"

"We're in a hurry," Dean told him gruffly, but turned to his sister at the hand she squeezed on his arm, "Two minutes," and he glared at Bryan while slipping passed them into the hallway.

"I didn't know," he whispered, "you're not, you're not a monster, I'm sorry."

"I'm not a witch anymore," she shrugged sadly.

"What's that like?" his question and the way he inclined his head with genuine concern on his face made Morgan's throat tighten.

"At first," she began, forcing the words out over the breaks in her voice, "it was a little relieving, but, honestly, I don't know who I am without them."

"You were powerful?" Bryan stepped towards her tentatively.

"That's what they said," Morgan scoffed, "my, uh, my Mother had me under specific circumstances to make a witch as powerful as possible, so yeah, I should'a been."

"What happened?" he asked almost sadly.

She chuckled darkly, "I died," his shocked face made her repeat the ominous short laugh, "clearly it didn't stick."

"What, who, wait, what?" Bryan stammered and Morgan couldn't help a light giggle.

"Lucifer, actually," she smirked.

"Who are you people?" he breathed a little lighthearted.

"The Winchesters," she raised her eyebrows proudly.

"Morgan, let's go," Dean rapped hard on her door, glaring again at Bryan before walking away from the doorway.

"Be safe, okay?" he grimaced, his eyes telling her he had plenty of experience hoping the best and expecting the worst.

"Yeah, we will," she smiled, taking a small step towards him.

"I better see you in one piece, soon," he pulled her close and wrapped his arms around her, "I'm so sorry I made you cry, I wasn't thinking-"

"Bryan, it's-"

"It's not," he said firmly, "I was part raised by a psychic, just never met a demon before, kinda-"

"Crowley has that effect," she giggled up at him.

"I'm so sorry I upset you," his eyes were damp with emotion, "Baby, please know I don't think of you like that, I never could."

"Thank you," she smiled, closing her eyes as he inclined his head towards her and their lips touched.

A hard throat clear broke them apart after a few seconds and Sam gave her an uncomfortable glance, jerking his head towards the garage, "C'mon, Morgan, we gotta hit the road."

"Yeah," she blushed madly, but appreciated Sam's lack of reaction, grabbing her duffel bag and backpack of books, including her precious bok Grugnir, slinging both over her shoulders.

"See you soon," Bryan smiled at her, dipping his head at Sam as he limped passed him, "Sorry, sir."

"Take it easy, kid," Sam leveled him with a serious expression, "Do what Claire says."

Morgan followed Sam into the hallway and he shortened his strides to match hers as they made their way towards the garage. Chancing a glance up at her brother, she saw him smirking at her and chuckle.

"It was, just-" she tried, as he shook his head.

"Nope," Sam laughed, "Don't know what y'r'talkin' about 'n we're not gonna talk about it."

Morgan grinned at him and giggled, she wasn't sure what she'd do without Sam sometimes, Dean would've had a very different reaction to walking in on that scene. She appreciated the Sam clearly had no intentions of telling their oldest brother.

Dean was checking the stock of the Impala's trunk as they entered the garage and Morgan eyed Bryan's Buick, moved to the back in front of the Mustang. The 1987 classic almost looked like it belonged next to the others, rare, pristine condition and an aggressive stance, ready for a mission. The Grand National had obviously been his father, Bill's, hunting car and Morgan was sure Bryan knew exactly why his mother hadn't wanted him to drive it, the same reason he'd felt the urge to piece it back together.

"Okay," Dean took Morgan's duffel, but eyed them both, "We all on board?"

They both grumbled and nodded weakly.

"Kids," he raised an eyebrow and Morgan felt Sam stiffen next to her, tossing his duffel roughly in the trunk, "I'm not a fan of this either, but there's too much we don't know right now 'n we need to stick together."

"You're right," Sam conceded, "stop bein' a dick about it."

Dean smirked a little as Sam passed him to pull open the heavy wooden doors and the oldest lurched the rear passenger door open for Morgan to slide onto the soft, familiar leather. She set her backpack on the floor by the green cooler and Dean dropped behind the wheel, turning the engine over with a loud growl. Morgan smiled at the vibration beneath her, it had been a while since she'd sat in the backseat and was strangely excited for a road trip with her brothers, though the destination was terrifying.

The sun had only started rising when they left the tunnel, the dusky gray sky overhead reminded Morgan how little sleep she'd gotten since the events of the day before and couldn't help a long yawn.

"Got a long drive," Dean chuckled into the rearview mirror, "why don't y'lay down 'n get some sleep."

"M'okay," she assured him, stifling a small yawn, but after several minutes of quiet driving and the lull of classic rock music at a low volume, Morgan found herself curling across the bench.

Sun was streaming through the windows when she woke, blinking her eyes open to the black leather of the seatback, her brother's voices reached her ears before she moved and stayed still, breathing evenly as they continued.

"We don't know these witches," Sam said, "for all we know, they'll hurt her, or worse, Dean I think this is a shitty idea."

"I'm not arguing that with y'Sammy," Dean admitted, "but look, if things are remotely as bad as Crowley made it sound we could use their help if they'll offer it-"

"But how do we know that's what they're offering?" Sam insisted.

"We don't," Dean conceded, "but this Sophie Petit, I guess she was close to Ceralia, or as close as anyone could've been to that awful hag, but Crowley said she's genuinely interested in helping Morgan."

"Why?" Sam scoffed, "If she was close with her Mother, then isn't more likely-"

"I know," Dean snapped quietly, "look, I don't think she even knew Morgan was alive, but I'm not plannin' on walkin' in there with my pants down man, we're gonna be ready f'r'this."

"For a coven?" Sam sounded deeply doubtful.

"The remanence of a coven," Dean corrected.

"So much more reassuring," sarcasm dripped off Sam's words and their conversation ended.

Morgan waited for a particularly loud guitar riff at the end of the song to act as if she'd just woken up, turning to sit and wincing a little as her tender bottom met the leather.

"Good nap?" Sam smiled, turning a bit in his seat.

"Very," she nodded, "Where are we?"

"Bloomington Iowa," Dean glanced in the rearview mirror, "about half way there."

"You guys eat yet?" Morgan shifted her eyes between them.

"Waitin' f'r'you sleepin' beauty," Dean smirked, "What're y'hungry for?"

"First thing y'spot's good with me," she shrugged.

"So, Morgan," Sam began as he usually did before trying to pry information from her, "Can you, uh, can you tell us about this book? The Gungnir?"

"The bok Gungnir," she corrected automatically, "it's, uh, it's ancient, I mean like older than old, Mother wasn't even sure exactly when it was from," she paused and stared at her backpack as if she could see the dark violet bindings through the brown canvas, "she told me, Odin himself shaved the pages from the handle of his spear Gungnir and gave them to our ancestor Aki Hallr to create the bok Gungnir."

"Wow," the corners of Sam's mouth tugged down into a funny frown as he nodded at her and then Dean, "So, we assume these witches know that?"

"I don't know anything about the Grand Coven," Morgan admitted, "but yeah, it would surprise me if they didn't, I mean, it's a centuries old, god crafted spell book, there's not an abundance of them out there and Mother was a member for, well I'm not really sure, I actually don't even know how old she was to be honest," she chuckled at the realization, "she didn't share much, but I'm sure with them, with magic, at least, she shared some of it."

Sam and Dean nodded slowly, more at each other than her and Dean pulled into the small parking lot of a diner. Morgan was sure between the Impala and her brother, one of the two had a navigation system that worked specifically for cheap, hole in the wall restaurants. Not that she minded in the slightest.

"So," she shifted her eyes between both brothers when the waitress left their table, "What's the deal? Princes of Hell aside, what's the big bad that's got Crowley calling reinforcements?"

"Pretty sure Princes of Hell is enough," Dean scoffed lightly, slurping his coffee, "Damn that's hot!"

"Yeah, but," Morgan set her mug down, deciding to give the boiling beverage a minute to cool, "there's somethin' else isn't there?"

Dean nodded slowly, "Yeah, an army of 'em."

"Of what?" she urged.

"Demons," Sam interjected quietly.

"Lucifer, Abaddon, Lilith loyalists," the oldest shrugged, "pretty much every demon who hates Crowley, 'n there's a few."

"They're forming an army?" Morgan breathed the question nervously.

"The Princes were created as demonic commanders," Dean told her, "doubt it'll take long f'r'them t'whip their troops back into shape."

"And they're after me?" she asked.

"Us," both brothers answered together, leveling her with serious expressions.

"And the vampires?" Morgan inclined her head, glancing from Sam to Dean at their table.

"Still an issue," Dean nodded, "but lower priority than this."

"Awesome," Morgan finally sipped her coffee, "What does it say about us when a vampire uprising gets knocked down the priority list?"

"We're the A team," Dean smirked and he and Sam bumped fists without taking their eyes away from her, earning a soft giggle and head shake.


	25. Chapter 25

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Enjoy the drive up Rt 34 to I88 to I290 into downtown Chicago- the L is the subway system in Chicago, but it's mostly elevated around the city and L stands for elevated... yup, welcome to Chicago logic- and screw you Heinz and your"hot dog sauce" I know what ketchup is and it does not belong on a hot dog!

Morgan was happy they'd stopped in Bloomington, Iowa to eat because minutes after leaving the parking lot they were crossing a massive bridge over the Mississippi River. She'd seen it on maps as a thin blue line zigzagging the Mid-West, but, as the Impala roared across the bridge, she couldn't take her eyes off the rolling water far below them. Sam was impressed with her knowledge of the waterway's history, he was always impressed by her ability to remember everything she'd read, and promised to get her more text books like the history one she'd nearly finished. Morgan silently hoped that was a promise he could keep, unsure what was waiting for them in Chicago.

She was sure, after a few more hours, they had been driving in circles, field after field, barn after barn and Morgan was absolutely certain she'd seen the same cow at least three times. Only the occasional need for gas let her know they weren't perpetually in the same town. Dean liked to sing loudly in the car to piss off Sam, cranking the music if he thought the younger man was dozing a little, and other generally jerky things he felt were his right as the oldest and the driver, but this trip wasn't like that. Morgan could tell in the hushed volume of the radio and the way Dean stared straight ahead nearly the entire time, he was scared.

"Dude, just hit the highway," Sam urged, "it's the middle'a the day, no one's on it, c'mon we're not takin' thirty-four all the way into the city."

"Fine," Dean grumbled, "but you better have that change waitin', 'cause I swear t'God if I gotta listen t'some asshole honkin' behind me again while you search f'r'a dime-"

"I gave you the right amount!" Sam argued, "That stupid machine counted it wrong!"

"Right," Dean smirked and spoke slowly, "Silly me, the machine was wrong, the one that counts change, all day, only jobs it's got, did it wrong."

"Screw you, jerk," Sam chuckled.

"Just get my tolls, bitch," Dean cracked a smile and Morgan giggled at the exchange.

The toll road had several lanes and while Dean may have fought the idea of the main highway, he seemed perfectly content with cruising the left lane with other cars going well over the legal limit. Her still sore bottom reminded her of the warning ticket Sam had punished her for as they blew passed several cars in the neighboring lanes and Morgan shook her head at the double standard. Dean was clearly in a hurry and it seemed an inappropriate time to point it out.

More and more cars filled the massive highway and Morgan leaned forward, peering out the windshield as the skyline that had always been in the background of her life appeared in the hazy distance. She didn't feel longing, or the warmth of home as they barreled East on Interstate 290, but in the comfortable familiarity of the buildings ahead, Morgan noticed a twist of concern for what was there, what was waiting.

Though the feeling worsened, she couldn't help peering out the window at the murals, unchanged, the parks and business she'd seen taking the L with her Mother in and out of the city, all of it the same. There were so many buildings, several empty, hardly used or simply abandoned, so many options for hiding a hostage. Morgan had never wished she could scry again so badly as she wondered where Castiel was in the great city, if he was still there at all.

"A'right," Dean broke the silence as he pulled off the highway into the heart of downtown, "How 'bout we grab some grub 'n get our bearings?"

"Sounds good," Sam and Morgan replied in synchrony.

"Preferences?" he asked and she couldn't help a huge grin in the rearview mirror, "Obviously you do."

"Pizza," she sighed, practically able to smell it in the air.

"Pizza it is," Dean nodded and Sam started swiping his phone, opening his restaurant finding app, "Y'know, I was perfectly capable of finding places t'eat before y'r'phone told me where t'go."

"Yeah, but you always found crappy places," Sam didn't look up from the screen, "this has reviews 'n pictures, here, turn left at the second light."

"Never picked crappy places," Dean grumbled, getting into the left turn lane at the light designated by Sam's phone.

As if by magic, there was a spot in front of Pizzeria Milan when they pulled up and Dean looked pleasantly surprised at the hole in the wall joint. Morgan inhaled deeply a breath of delicious air as she got out of the backseat and smiled at Sam. A few people sat at the same table but there were three others empty, it wasn't anything fancy, but it was clean and smelled like heaven.

"Wha'can I get'cha?" the young man behind the counter asked quickly.

"Large pepperoni 'n sausage," Dean ordered.

"Ralphie!" the young man turned and yelled behind the large ovens at the cook, "Gimme'a large pie pepperoni 'n sausage!"

The pizza couldn't cook fast enough as they sat at the table closest to the door, furthest from the others, and sipped sodas while Morgan kept looking out the window at the busy street.

"Hey, eyes front," Dean said in a low, gravelly voice and she turned her attention to him, "So, first we gotta meet with this Sophie lady-"

"But Cas-" Morgan began, but bit her lips together at Dean's eyebrow raise.

"We don't know where to find him," he continued in the same hushed tone, "I'm kinda hoping she can help with that."

Morgan nodded her understanding and they all took their forearms off the table, leaning back as the cook, assumingly Ralphie, set a steaming hot pizza in the middle of their table. He grumbled and turned back to the kitchen when they thanked him.

Despite burning her mouth on the cheese, the taste surpassed Morgan's expectations, having never had a Chicago pizza fresh, but tourists were always generous with the takeout boxes they didn't want to carry.

"Y'know," Dean chuckled, "Chicago was almost wiped off the planet in two-thousand-ten, but Death liked the pizza."

"He had good taste," Morgan commented, more surprised by her lack of surprise than the piece of information her brother had shared.

"So," Sam wiped his mouth and balled the napkin on his empty plate, "where are we meetin' this lady?"

"The Waldorf," Dean shoved more pizza in his mouth as Morgan and Sam's eyes expanded at each other.

"And we're walkin' in there like this?" Sam scoffed quietly.

"Wike wha'?" Dean managed to sound offended even with a full mouth.

"Like some backwoods Kansas kids who just rolled into town in a fifty-year-old car," the younger brother implored.

"That fifty-year-old car runs a helluva lot better than some'a these new piece'a craps," the oldest insisted.

"Is that the flannel that has a blood stain on the back?" Sam lowered his head, blinking slowly at his brother.

"Jacket covers it up," Dean shrugged and shoved the last of his slice in his mouth.

"Dude," Sam chuckled impatiently, "it's the freakin' Waldorf Astoria, y'r'gonna hafta take y'r'coat off."

"Jeezus fine," Dean rolled his eyes, "we'll change quick."

"Uh," Morgan waved at them, "pretty sure all I've got is my backwoods Kansas wardrobe."

The two looked at each other and back at their sister before Sam spoke, "Good thing you shop quick."

After a quick search on his phone, Sam found a clothing store just a block and a half from where they were and the trio left the restaurant quickly. It was a small place, pop music played over the speakers and faceless manikins dressed in trendy clothes stood in the windows and on pedestals around the room. Morgan glanced warily at her brothers, noticing they looked equally as uncomfortable, as a thin, young, dark-haired saleswoman approached them in a tight, black dress and very high heels.

"Can I help you?" she smiled.

"Uh, yeah," Sam nodded, "We're just passin' through town 'n some family asked us to meet them f'r'dinner tonight, but we didn't exactly bring clothes f'r'the occasion," he smiled at her and she nodded understandingly.

"Of course," the saleswoman gestured to Morgan with a well-manicured finger, "I have the perfect thing for you."

Morgan felt a little uncomfortable, but followed the woman at Sam's encouraging head jerk, Dean's focus had turned to a dark gray, military style sport coat.

"You have t'try that on," the pretty young woman insisted with a wink at the oldest, earning one of his most charming smiles and Morgan caught a small rise in the color of the saleswoman's cheeks.

Along the back wall was a variety of dresses, skirts and blouses, along with a small selection of shoes in the corner, none of which looked remotely comfortable. The saleswoman searched through a circular rack, eyeing Morgan up and down occasionally, before pulling a pale green, cap-sleeve dress from between a mess of others.

"Yes," she nodded, holding it up to Morgan, "Brings out those gorgeous green eyes, 'n it's not super low cut 'r anything, your dads will love it."

"My whats?" Morgan shook her head with narrowed eyes.

"Your, aren't they-" the saleswoman grimaced, glancing at Sam and Dean several feet away in the men's section.

"My brothers," Morgan giggled lightly.

"Oh, I'm so sorry," she insisted, "It's just, you're so young, I thought."

"It's fine," Morgan nodded when the young woman trailed off awkwardly, "Technically they're old enough to be, we have the same dad, I was exactly, expected."

"Know how that goes," she giggled, though Morgan doubted she had any idea.

She tried on the dress behind the curtained stall, folded her clothes neatly on the bench and stared at herself in the full-length mirror. The combat boots standing next to her, while adorable, were not exactly the right fit for the knee length, A-line dress she was wearing, Morgan silently admitted it did look pretty good and definitely brought out her eyes. She stepped out barefoot, immediately finding Sam and Dean sitting on the chairs outside the changing room.

"Wow," they said in unison and the pretty saleswoman giggled.

"Here," she smiled, setting a pair of plain, black flats in front of Morgan with a quick wink, "You don't strike me as a heel girl."

"Thank you," Morgan grinned, slipping her feet into the shoes, wondering if Sam had told her what size when they fit perfectly, and found them surprisingly comfortable.

"You look great," Sam stood to his full height, smiling at his sister.

"Can I show you something?" the pretty young woman pulled Sam gently by the arm and he looked uneasily at his siblings before allowing her to drag him away.

"You gettin' the jacket?" Morgan asked, nodding to the sport coat folded over Dean's arm.

"Hell yeah I'm gettin' the jacket," he scoffed, "You really do look beautiful, Sweetie."

Morgan let out a dark chuckle, shaking her head down at her new outfit, "Guess I was wearin' a dress either way t'day," Dean inclined his head with a little confusion, "Tonight's the dance."

"Oh, right," he nodded and stood, pulling her into his arms at the wince of pain that crossed her face, "I'm sorry, Sweetie," Dean sounded like he wanted to say more, but didn't, there wasn't anything to say.

Morgan wasn't crying, she wasn't upset about missing the dance besides the reasons causing her absence, but it was another reminder of just how much her life had changed in a day. Though truthfully, she knew it had been those few weeks of ordinariness that were an interruption on her normal life.

It wasn't much longer before they left the store, Morgan kept on the outfit, slipping her blue jacket over the dress, impressed with how well it looked, and shoved the rest of her clothes and shoes into a bag the saleswoman offered. Dean bought the jacket and the woman had convinced Sam into a lighter gray one with rolled sleeves, showing a bit of blue plaid inside the cuffs.

Dean drove a few blocks away and pulled into a large back alley, Morgan took the bok Gungnir from her backpack to busy herself as they changed into clean suits behind a dumpster. She'd hardly used it besides the fire line and burn cure months prior, her still sore bottom throbbed again when she thought of that night and how angry Dean had been.

It was a beautiful book, the dark purple binding was covered in intricate designs, merely shades different from each other, a tangled web of violet around the silver valknut. The pages were crisp, thick and grainy, all of them filled with incantations or potions, except the very last that lay blank, waiting for the final spell to finish the collection of magic. Many of the spells were simple to understand, perhaps not to perform, especially lacking magic as she occasionally had to remind herself, but some of the obviously older additions were in Norse, a language Morgan was equally fluent in as her others, but the dialect was one she'd always struggled to speak. She turned the page to a Latin spell, pushing away the painful memories of a constant failure and the consequences it had render.

Her brothers returned to the car looking very sharp, the additions of their new jackets made their FBI suits far more stylishly civilian. Morgan shut the bok Gungnir as they dropped back onto the front seat and Dean began expertly maneuvering the Impala out of the tight alley and back onto the street.

"We good enough f'r'the Waldorf now?" Dean glanced at his brother.

"I am," he chuckled, pulling at the lapels on his new jacket, "I look good."

Morgan knew the area they were driving towards well, the Magnificent Mile was always jam packed with tourists, a perfect place to pickpocket unsuspecting out-of-towners. It was strange to see the blocks pass so quickly, she used to walk them, lingering behind easy targets, but Dean wasted no time getting to the hotel. A large beautiful building with a circle drive and a couple stiff, uniformed valets next to a podium.

"Man, they don't have self-parking?" Dean peered around as they approached the young men.

"Dude, just valet," Sam scoffed.

"That's what you said in Quaker Valley," Dean smirked, "look how well that turned out."

"How does valeting at the steak joint have anything to do with being attacked by a nearly extinct monster?" Sam challenged as Dean slowed in front of the young men.

"Bad luck," the oldest retorted, pushing his door open before the valet could open it, but the other opened the back door for Morgan, offering her his hand and smiled when she took it, sliding off the seat as gracefully as she could, dragging her backpack behind her.

Dean took the ticket and leveled both valets with a threatening stare before they walked through at the doorman's gesture, Morgan found herself between her brothers on their entrance into the grand hotel. The ceiling was higher than any she'd ever seen, the marble floors gleamed and a man at a Grand Piano played soft classical music, echoing through the large, hushed room. Dean jerked his head and they followed brass signs for a restaurant down the hall.

There was another man at another podium when they approached the darkened restaurant down the main corridor from the long checkout desk. He smiled and bowed his head a little when they approached.

"Table for three?" he asked.

"We're meetin' someone," Dean told him, "Sophie Petit."

"Ah," he nodded, "Madam Petit, of course, she arrived only a few minutes ago, please let me escort you."

Morgan's stomach twisted hard. The whole place was nicer than any she'd ever been in, the restaurant had white linen on the tables and chairs with armrests, she really wished she was wearing pants. Her discomfort grew as they turned towards a large corner booth, secluded from the others with a heavy curtain pulled to the side. An old woman, so tiny her feet didn't reach the floor, and a man, not nearly as old, but certainly passed his prime, sat on one side, sipping red wine and talking quietly.


	26. Chapter 26

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> If you haven't noticed I write dialogue in a dialect style, so how it's pronounced instead of how it's written, I curbed a bit of this next character so what she's saying wasn't overshadowed by how she says it, but wanted to let you know that there are no gibberish words in my story, everything is translated from Latin, French, Norwegian or Old Norse because I'm a stickler for accuracy... okay it might actually be a problem, I should see someone.

The tiny, aged witch turned with a small smile, the man beside her simply raised a disinterested eyebrow at the Winchesters and sipped his wine. They were both well dressed, though their outfits were a bit outdated, the curtained booth they occupied was very secluded, but no one else was in the restaurant.

"Madam Petit," the host bowed a bit, "the rest of your party has arrived."

"Zank you, Geoffrey," Madam Petit said in a heavy French accent and the host returned to his post at the front of the restaurant, "Please," she gestured across the booth, every finger covered with ornate rings.

Sam slid in first and Dean gestured Morgan to follow before sandwiching her between them, both their expressions were stone and she did her best to match, despite the waves of nausea rolling inside.

"I am Sophie Petit," she settled her bright blue eyes on Morgan after a quick sweep of the Winchesters, "I would never 'ave guessed you were Ceralia's daughter by looks," with a curl in the corner of her wrinkled lips she continued, "but you 'old yourzelf ezactly az she deed, proud, but you don't 'ave much to be proud of anymore-"

"S'cuse me?" Dean snapped and Sophie smiled warmly at him.

"You must be Dean," she turned to him with an unaltered smile, "I've 'eard you're a leettle, protective, I mean no offense I promise."

"Sounded pretty offensive," he growled and the man next to Sophie sat forward a bit.

"Jean, le laisser seul," Sophie said quietly to the man next to her and he widened his eyes at her, "Nous devons gagner leur confiance."

"You got a long way t'go," Morgan scoffed and Sophie and Jean turned to her slowly, she with happy surprise, him quite the opposite.

"You speak French?" Sophie inclined her head with the same sweet smile, Morgan wanted to see malice in her face, but it wasn't there.

"Oui," she nodded curtly.

"Of course," Sophie sighed, "Ceralia would've taught you many languages. She was not, uh, a very maternal woman, was she?" Morgan shook her head slightly, but offered nothing else, "She became very cold when we 'ad to ezcape perzecution and found peace een America, she was not always zee woman you knew."

"Did you know about her?" Dean glared at Sophie and jerked his head at his sister.

"I did not," she assured him, "until our mutual friend, Mr. Crowley, eenformed me of zee circumstances from a few months ago. May I ask, which of you two killed the Devil?" Sam couldn't help a small smirk, good enough for Sophie and she beamed at him, "My boy, you a true hero, zank you."

Sam nodded awkwardly, but Dean leaned forward on his elbows and spoke in the same hard tone, "How d'you know Crowley?"

The old witch giggled, "I've known Crowley since 'ee was Fergus McLeod, briefly albeit, we've gotten to know each other better since 'is demonic transition. I was 'is Mother's first teacher, I believe you all know Rowena as well," none of the Winchesters made a move to agree or disagree with this and Sophie continued, "'ee told me about you, Morgan, as 'er mentor, I knew of course of Ceralia's idea, 'er plan to create a being of unparalleled power, but when we came 'ere she spoke of it no more. Zere were years I didn't see 'er and when she returned to zee Coven she said nozing, no one knew."

Dean nodded slowly and leaned back, but his face remained hard. Morgan wasn't sure what to think of this witch, her kindness didn't seem false, but she wasn't ready to trust that instinct.

"Why'd you wanna meet me?" Morgan asked bluntly.

"Why wouldn't I?" Sophie giggled gently, "Zee living proof my best student accomplished an unbelievable feat."

"I don't have my powers anymore," Morgan bit the words out.

"I 'eard," Sophie nodded sadly, "Zough looking in your eyes would 'ave told me," Morgan couldn't help inclining her head at the French witch, "You're empty."

"A'right, lady-" Dean snapped, leaning aggressively forward on the table but words stopped escaping his gaping mouth and he clutched his throat.

"Stop!" Morgan screamed at Sophie but seeing the older woman glaring at Jean with a hand raised, she realized it was the man's spell attacking her brother, but before she could lunge at him, Sam slammed his head on the table and Dean gasped for air.

"Jean!" Sophie pulled his bleeding face roughly from the table and slapped his cheek hard, "Vous ne nous aident pas! Aller! Maintenant!"

Morgan watched as the man bowed his injured head apologetically and simply dissolved into thin air.

"Je suis désolé," Sophie shook her head, but giggled at Sam and Dean's blank expressions, "I'm sorry, very sorry, Jean eez a beet protective of me. Are you alright my boy?"

"I've had worse," Dean retorted, rubbing his neck.

"What'd you mean?" Sam suddenly broke his silence with a low, harsh question directed at the old witch, "You said she's empty."

"I apologize for my English," she bowed her head, "I don't always pick zee right words and you Americans are surprisingly senseetive," she held up a defensive hand at Dean's nostril flare, "I will try to choose my words more carefully," turning her attention back to Morgan, Sophie continued, "You look lost, my dear, a piece of you eez missing."

Morgan dipped her head, staring at her hands twisting in her lap, unable to stop the tightness in her throat or the hot tears filling her eyes and simply tried to hide her broken expression. She had been relieved at first of the burden, but as the days and weeks passed, Morgan had felt less and less herself, trying to ignore the void inside. But since Crowley had said it was possible to regain her magic, she'd hardly thought of anything else.

"I can 'elp," Sophie told her quietly and Morgan lifted her head slowly, staring hard at the woman, trying to see dishonesty in her eyes, but it wasn't there.

"Why?" she forced the question without a break in her voice.

"A favor," she shrugged.

"Why?" Dean growled.

"Ceralia was my best student, but she suffered much, zee Men of Letters killed 'er friends and zee only man she ever loved," Morgan scoffed at the idea, "It's true, but she never came back from zat loss. I could not save 'er from zee darkness she dove into. I can't eemagine zee woman you knew as a mother and if we had known she'd succeeded, zat you were alive, we would have trained you, but I zink she was too far gone in 'er world of anger, revenge and 'ate. I'm sorry for what you dealt with, I wish I could've 'elped then, but I can now."

"How?" Morgan shook her head at the information echoing in her ears.

"I'm dying," Sophie smiled, "Eez about time, I'm nearly nine 'undred, eet will be soon, so we must do zees now."

"Do what?" all three Winchesters asked together.

"Geev you my magic," she said as if that had been obvious.

"Give, magic, what?" Morgan stammered, "You can't, that's not possible."

"Eet eez for you," Sophie smiled, "Deed you bring zee bok Gungnir?" Morgan's face didn't change, but she inconspicuously squeezed her backpack between her calves, "Good, we will need eet."

"Back up," Dean shook his head, "She's fine, she doesn't need anything from you."

Morgan felt her throat tighten again, but a large hand on hers made her slowly look at Sam, peering at her with his understanding, hazel eyes as he whispered, "What do you want?"

"I don't understand," Morgan said pleadingly to the old witch.

"You are a descendant of Odin," Sophie smiled, "and you were born a witch, eet eez your natural state. Zere eez a spell een zat beautiful book you 'ave zat will transfer my powers to you, perhaps not zee same level you would 'ave reached before, but, what eez eet you Americans say, better zan nozing."

"Why would you do this?" Morgan breathed in shock.

"What will I do wiz magic when I am dead?" the French woman chuckled, "Zis way I can 'elp you and return my best student's greatest creation wiz my powers living on een you."

Morgan gasped quietly, realizing she'd stopped breathing. Could it be possible? Her hands were clammy and shaking, she slowly stared at the smiling little witch across the large table and nodded.

"What's the catch?" she asked quietly.

"Morgan, are you-" Dean began angrily, but Sam stopped him firmly.

"Dean, it's not y'r'call."

"Sam, she's not-"

"Ask her," the younger brother challenged, jerking his head at their sister, "Ask her what she wants."

Dean's eyes were hard at Sam, but they softened as he met the matching set staring up at him pleadingly, he sighed heavily, "You miss it that bad?" she nodded earnestly at him and he turned his attention to the old witch, "A'right so what's the catch?"

"Zere eez no catch," Sophie assured them and despite trying to find something about the woman that was untrustworthy, Morgan could not.

With a glance at Sam, Morgan caught his encouraging nod, silently promising he stood behind whatever decision she made. She was afraid to look at Dean, but finally turned to him, peering through her long eyelashes. He was not happy, but his smirk said it wasn't her he was upset with, and with a small nod she knew he too would still love her magic or not.

"You're not yourself wizout magic," Sophie said quietly, looking at Morgan as if they were they only two there, "I wish I could've 'elped you learn, 'elped your Mother release 'er anger, but at least I can geev you zees."

There was nothing but honesty in her wrinkled face, her clear blue eyes reflected the truth in her words and Morgan slowly nodded, without thinking, simply her natural response allowed to finally answer.

Sophie beamed at her and turned to Dean, "Could you get zat curtain, darling?"

"No," he answered and didn't move from his cross-armed position.

Sophie didn't seem fazed or surprised by his response, nor did her expression falter as she flicked two small, very wrinkled fingers and the curtain swung shut. Morgan gasped in delight, it had been so long since she'd seen even the tiniest bit of magic, her insides swirled with excitement, anger, confusion and the longing to feel power pump through her veins again. The old witch waved her hand in a circular motion over the table and the three of them grabbed the edge as the entire booth began spinning madly. Sophie sat perfectly still but continued moving her hand in a circle over the white linen. After a few moments they slowed briefly to an abrupt halt.

"What the Hell was that?" Dean barked, putting a fist in front of his mouth like he was about to vomit.

"Dear," Sophie smiled kindly at him, "we are een my 'ome now, zee language, eef you please," and before Dean could do more than offer an equally nauseated and apologetic grimace, the old witch flicked her fingers slightly again and the curtains pulled themselves neatly, back into position.

The apartment before them was beautiful with expensive, wooden furniture placed perfectly in the large space, two sets of massive, white double doors led off the open room in both directions and one entire wall was windows, leading to a concrete balcony. Sophie slid out of the booth effortlessly, gesturing them to follow her. On the other side of a grand piano in the middle of the room was a long bar where Jean sat, nursing another glass of red wine and refusing to look in the Winchesters' direction as he forced a smile at the old witch, his face restored.

Sophie led them to a square, sunken section of the room, bordered by a long red couch surrounding a white marble fire pit in the middle.

"May I see zee bok Gungnir, please?" she politely requested, but Morgan's stomach still squirmed, the book suddenly feeling heavier in the bag over her shoulders.

"Are you gonna keep it?" Morgan couldn't help the question as it blurted passed her tongue.

Sophie giggled, "My Heavens why? I'm dying sweet girl, what would an old woman do een 'er last five minutes wiz a spell book and no magic?"

Relief washed over her like a cool wave, the bok Gungnir would remain hers and she could actually use it, this woman, this wonderful, tiny woman was offering her everything. But as she pulled the violet text from her backpack, a thought, suddenly more important that anything came to mind and again she couldn't help the request that burst out.

"My brother's, our friend, he's here, somewhere, we need to find him," she approached Sophie with the book and a pleading look, "Can you scry him?"

"What do you 'ave of 'is?" she asked, peering at all of them and no one made a move, "Unfortunately, even I, after 'undreds of years, cannot scry a stranger wizout somzing of zeirs. But you know 'im," Morgan shrugged in agreement, "Zen let us 'urry."

"Madam Petit," Morgan said quietly as she handed over the bok Gungnir, "Why, really, I mean why are you doing this for me?"

"I 'ave not been perfect, Morgan," she admitted in a whisper, "I 'ope 'elping you will 'elp me, my life after zees one eez much longer."

She wasn't sure why, but Morgan appreciated the confession and trusted her more for the admittance, releasing the precious book to her wrinkled hands.

"Thank you," the young woman whispered.

"Zank you," the old witch grinned and took a deep breath, focusing again on the bok Gungnir, "Of course, you know zee story," Sophie smiled when Morgan nodded, "You will 'ave to add your own magic soon."

"There's only one page left," Morgan shook her head.

"But of course," the old witch giggled, "Zere eez always one page left."

Morgan thought on these words as Sophie opened the binding carefully and turned the pages, smiling as she assessed the magic inside.

"Your Mother was very proud of zees book," she told Morgan, "of 'er ancestry, but she should 'ave been proud of you," Morgan furrowed her brow at the mild acquaintance speaking as if she knew her, "Eef you 'ad been a failure she would 'ave killed you, zere eez no doubt in my mind, so clearly you were not. I do not know why she chose not to share you wiz zee rest of us, I can only assume she wanted to make sure you would impress zee Coven. From what I've 'eard about you and seen wiz my own eyes, even wizout magic you are an impressive girl. She may 'ave chosen a Winchester for revenge, but zeir blood eez not weak," Sophie paused and smiled at Sam and Dean before returning her attention to Morgan, "Vos frères, t'aime beaucoup."

Morgan smiled and nodded, "Je sais, ils sont merveilleux, mais dangereux."

Sophie grinned and her eyes flicked towards Jean at the bar briefly before nodding her understanding at Morgan. Pointing to an open page, Sophie brought Morgan's attention to one of the oldest, Norse spells. It didn't surprise the young woman she'd never seen it before, she often skipped over the Norse incantations to avoid the awful memories that went with the language. The spell she was looking at was nothing she'd ever encountered.

The words Dreyri Ginnregin were scrawled at the top of the page, only two short inscriptions were below it, but the remainder of the ancient paper was covered in an intricate red symbol.

"Zees," Sophie didn't touch the page as she traced the outline of the markings with her finger, "eez Odin's blood, 'ee put zees in 'imself, in case one of 'is descendants was born wizout magic, or in zees case, 'ad eet stolen from you," she said the last words bitterly, "After I transfer my power to zee book, it can only transfer to you, or another wiz zee blood of Odin, zough zere is no other."

Sophie ceased her explanation and stepped back from the book, laid on the marble edge of the fire pit, she smiled at the Winchesters and called Jean, "Eet eez time."

The old warlock grudgingly joined them in the sunken living room with his wine and chose a corner of the couch farthest from the rest.

Sophie ran a finger down her palm and blood began seeping from the precision cut she'd made, her face suddenly of determination, the old witch flattened her bleeding palm on the red symbol and spoke the first incantation. Morgan was astounded to hear her French accent replaced with a perfect Norse dialect.

"Taka ríki gera gumi smá-menn!" Sophie shouted the words as the book glowed, the red lines pulled themselves off the page and began twisting around her hand and up her arm.

Morgan stared in shock, unsure if this was what should happen, though doubted Sophie knew any better as her wrinkled face also looked surprised, but the veins snaking up her arm would not let go. With a final scream from the old woman, the lines retracted quickly, back on the page in their intricate pattern, the book pulsed on the ledge as if a heart had just started beating between the aged paper.

Sophie's expression quickly returned to her kind smile, though her color was much paler and she'd clearly been weakened by the ordeal, "Your turn, dear."

"Are you alright?" Morgan asked, approaching the old woman as she settled herself on the couch.

"Eez my time," she nodded, "please, finish eet."

Morgan nodded and turned back to the throbbing book, but Dean stepped between her and the powerful gift Sophie was offering.

"Morgan, I don't-"

"Elle est en train de mourir pour vous!" Jean jumped from the couch and before Dean could push Morgan out of the way she stepped forward on the warlock.

"Je suis désolé, plaire, il ne sera pas pour rien," Morgan put defensive hands up, pleading with him, knowing they were vulnerable to any spell he might cast and the dying old woman could do nothing to help, "Je vous promets."

Jean nodded curtly at her and pointed firmly at the bok Gungnir before turning to Sophie and kneeling beside her, his expression quickly changed from hate to love.

"Dean," Morgan turned back to her brother, "Can I have your knife?"

"Morgan," he sighed, "Are you sure?"

"Yes," she nodded, extending an open hand for his blade and after a few moments, he grudgingly set the handle in her palm, "Thank you."

She took the two steps to the pulsating pages, noticing there was no blood stain from Sophie, just the red symbol of Odin's, shimmering with power. Sam stepped a bit closer to the other side, it was comforting feeling them both nearby as she slid the sharp knife down her palm and took a deep breath before laying her hand flat on the symbol and reading the second incantation.

"Veita ríki gera rein máttugr ríkr!"


	27. Chapter 27

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Oh you're in the thick of it now- think the last two chapters had cliffhangers? muwhahahahahahaha!

Warmth hit Morgan's hand, it wasn't uncomfortable, almost pleasant as the feeling seeped up her arm, into her chest and expanded to every vein and nerve in her body. She stared at the glow emanating from the bok Gungnir, unable to tear her eyes away as the red symbol twisted itself off the page again and wound gently through her fingers, around her wrist, up to her shoulder and finally offering one, slightly painful, tight squeeze. The glow diminished and Morgan watched as the red veins around her arm sunk into her skin and disappeared, the symbol still intact on the page, but a feeling she'd forgotten pulsed in her heart.

"Morgan?" she heard Dean's low tone, but sounded much further away, shaking her head from the trance, she turned to her brothers, "Are you okay?"

"I think so," she nodded, rubbing her arm where the veins had vanished, though nothing but a warm tingle resided of the feeling she'd just experienced.

"Repose en paix, Madam," Jean whispered behind Sam and at the words, Morgan hurried around her brothers to the couch where the still body of Sophie Petit laid and knelt beside the sullen man.

"Is she, no, she, ne peut pas mourir!" Morgan cried at Jean's broken face.

"Plaire, être forte pour elle, you must," he insisted and Morgan nodded her head in a silent promise that she would hold Sophie Petit's legacy dear and be strong in her memory.

"Does, uh," Sam spoke behind her, "does he need help," Sam gestured to Sophie's corpse and Morgan turned to Jean.

"Pouvons-nous aider?" she asked and he immediately shook his head.

"Permettez-moi de," Jean sad sadly, putting a hand on Sophie's, folded over her tiny torso.

Morgan nodded and stood, understanding Jean knew her, he'd loved her, this was his moment to grieve and she jerked her head in gesture to both brothers. Sam closed the bok Grungnir tucking it under one arm and slipped the other around Morgan's shoulders as they followed Dean to the large double doors. He pulled one side open and Morgan caught a sad glaze in his eyes for a moment as he looked at the warlock, bent over the deceased Sophie Petit, shutting the door behind them in the wide hallway.

"How, uh, how d'you feel?" Sam looked at her with concern.

Morgan took a deep breath, staring at her hands and cupped them together. A small red flame grew in the bowl she'd created, spinning as it formed a small dancing girl. She spun faster and faster, a red blur, until the color faltered, paling and deepening somehow all at once, and the fire dancer stopped spinning, leaping in dark purple strides from one finger to another. Hot tears of joy slipped from her cheeks onto the girl of flames and she fell as Morgan snapped her hands shut, a puff of violet smoke escaping between her fingers. Smiling as tears fell, feeling a completeness she hadn't in far too long.

"Let's find Cas," she looked at both of them with determination.

\----------------------------------------------------------------

"A'right," Dean began as he dropped into the driver's seat of the Impala and accelerated away from the Waldorf Astoria, "Morgan, what're the chances you brought y'r'crystals?"

"Always," she nodded, the precious stones were nestled in their tattered leather pouch in a small pocket of her backpack, despite being useless, Morgan had continued to keep them close, she was now bursting with the urge to use them again.

Dean pulled the dark sedan into another alley and Morgan pushed her door open hardly before he'd stopped completely. Falling to her knees in the new dress and setting the crystals on the ground with shaky hands, her excitement could not be stifled, but forced her focus to the angel. Cas, where are you?

The familiar incantation fell from her lips effortlessly, the warm rush of the session beginning to work was welcomed as an old friend while Morgan continued thinking of nothing but Castiel. The alley ground faded as her crystals seemed to pulsate, her ears were filled with deafening silence just before a high-pitched scraping echoed in the distance, loud cackling laughter was much closer and Morgan turned towards the sound. Why is it always a warehouse?

She stared at the open space and her sight focused on Castiel, bound to a steel wall, his arms extended away vulnerably, Morgan forced resolve when his beaten body became clear, his head lolling to one side. A dark haired, thin woman came into focus quickly as she stabbed the angel in the side, garnering a howling scream as Castiel lurched from the pain.

"Dagon, do you never tire?" a bored, deep voice asked and Morgan turned a bit to two men, sitting at a folding table playing cards, the one with short hair and a beard continued, "We've let you have your fun and I commend your creativity, you dragged him behind a train, made him drink the Chicago River, spiked him on top of the Sear's Tower," he turned to the pony-tailed man across from him, "or do they call it the Willis now?"

"Who cares?" the other slammed his hand down on the table, looking at the woman with hard eyes, "Can we kill him now?"

"He was a huge part in our Master's fall!" Dagon yelled, waving the bloody blade at them, "Or do neither of you remember Lucifer?!"

"I don't care!" the man with the ponytail jumped to his feet, sending his chair flying behind him, "I'm here because Ramiel begged-"

"I did not beg!" the bearded man jumped to his feet, his chair crashing with equal volume.

"I do not, have not, and will not care about this little plot for revenge!" the long-haired man continued, "It means nothing to me! Kill the angel, don't kill the angel, I don't care! Ramiel, you're my brother, but there's a reason I've stayed away for centuries," he snarled, hardening his expression at the other man and pointing firmly at the woman wielding the blade, "I can't stand that bitch."

"So, he's your brother, Asmodeous," Dagon stepped forward on the long-haired man, "but I'm not your sister."

"You and Azazel were cut from the same, obsessive, shit stained cloth," Asmodeous spat, "I would not call him kin either."

"I'll kill you myself," Dagon flipped the knife aggressively in her hand as she leapt as Asmodeous, but Ramiel grabbed her quickly, forcing her back.

"You will not!" he barked and the falter in Dagon's expression told Morgan instantly who was the oldest of these strange siblings, "Asmodeous is right, we are wasting time in BedfordgoddamnPark when we should be focusing on the troops."

"That was not my point," Asmodeous commented dryly and Ramiel turned to him with distain, "I'm sorry brother, but I've played this game too many times over too many years, I don't know what allowed me to let you talk me into this, but I've been reconsidering since I agreed. This is not my fight, I'm done fighting, I appreciate that you two feel so strongly, but I do not."

"The Winchesters," Dagon snarled and Morgan felt a pulse, but maintained control.

"Seem to have luck on their side," Asmodeous remarked, "I've never had such fortune. Ramiel, I do wish you the best, Dagon, well, I hope you die, painfully."

"Back at'cha brother," she smirked meanly and suddenly Asmodeous disappeared.

"Goddamn it, Dagon!" Ramiel pushed his sister roughly away from him.

"We don't need him!" she screamed though it sounded further away than it was and a cool breeze began lifting Morgan away from the warehouse, back to the alley.

Her crystals laid on the black asphalt, she blinked at them, waiting for the nausea, the headache, but there was nothing. It felt like she'd been gone a long time, before she would have been sickened by such an endeavor, that was not the case. Morgan followed the pairs of legs in front of her up to her concerned brothers' faces.

"Are you okay?" Sam asked, crouching next to her and offering a hand.

"I am," she nodded, amazed.

"Did you," Dean began tentatively, "Did you find him?"

"Bedford Park, warehouse, guessing by the tracks," Morgan told him, seeing the relief wash over his face.

"Why's it always gotta be a warehouse?" Dean scoffed, "What's the situation?"

Morgan told them what she'd seen, the argument between the royal siblings of Hell, and focused her eyes on Sam when she recanted Castiel's condition, unable to even glance at Dean for fear of his broken expression.

"So, Asmodeous is gone?" Sam asked.

"Guess so," Morgan shrugged, "He disappeared and Ramiel and Dagon started arguing, but I couldn't hold it any longer."

"You did great, kid," Dean commented gruffly, "Sam, get on that stupid thing 'n tell me the fastest way t'get t'Bedford Park."

"Dean," Sam's tone was urging his brother to slow down as the oldest turned back to the driver's door, "we don't have a plan yet."

"Save Cas, end of plan," Dean said simply, but stopped and turned to his brother.

"Okay, yeah," Sam nodded, "but what'd we got?"

"Angel blades, demon knife, grenade launcher," Dean shrugged, "I don't care what we use, we're gettin' him out. Now."

Morgan followed Dean, she felt prepared for anything, perhaps overly confident, but she couldn't remember ever feeling so good. Because she could, Morgan flicked her hand, lurching the rear passenger door open and crooking a finger to close it after she'd slid into the middle of the backseat.

"Show off," Dean chuckled as he dropped behind the wheel.

They were joined a moment later by Sam, "This is stupid," he grumbled.

"Yeah, well," Dean retorted, "I've been called worse."

"We're bringing her?" Sam jerked his head towards Morgan as Dean backed out of the alley.

"Of course, y'r'bringin' me," she scoffed, pulling her jeans on under the dress across the backseat.

"Y'r'not gettin' outta the car," Dean growled in the rearview mirror.

"Dude, I'm ready to go!" Morgan flipped her palms upward with a large purple flame in each before clapping them together loudly, a cloud of smoke following.

"So help me I will tie you to the seat," he threatened harshly, "stay in the damn car, that's an order."

"Fine," she scoffed, folding her arms and sitting back hard.

"'Scuse me?" he raised his eyebrows and applied the brakes.

"Yes, sir," she mumbled audibly and Dean continued to the street behind them, Morgan stuck her tongue out at the back of his head when he stopped looking in the rearview mirror.

Dean followed a few taxis through red lights, roaring down the busy streets at Sam's directions. Morgan calmed herself as much as she could, focusing her attention on Castiel, hoping she could find a direction, something to help them locate him in the mess of warehouses lining the railroad tracks. Dean slowed the Impala through a back road and glanced again in the rearview.

"Any ideas?" his question did not sound hopeful, but before Morgan could answer an explosion from one of the buildings burst with a boom and smoke, briefly behind where they had just passed, "Never mind, I think I found it."

As they rounded another building, the one ahead of them was smoking from the section of roof that was no longer there. Dean slid the Impala behind a few dumpsters and threw the shifter into park nearly as he was kicking his door open, Sam followed instantly. Morgan turned in the backseat, returned to her original outfit, the dress and flats on the floor next to the cooler, she could only see the black trunk lid popped as they shuffled around inside. With a sudden slam, she met Dean's matching eyes in the back window and his expression told her, again, to stay put, somehow, Morgan managed to hold back an eyeroll, at least until she'd turned around in the seat.

She watched out her driver's side window as they snuck around the smoldering building, maneuvering expertly as always, silent and deadly. Morgan's stomach twisted, she felt more useless at that moment than before she'd regained magic, Dean had no idea how helpful she could be, how powerful she felt. They disappeared along the far side of the building, the other side had a hill the warehouse was built into with a few windows just a few feet above the grass.

"Fuck this," Morgan grumbled, pushing the rear door open, "beat my ass, but'cher gonna live assholes."

As fast, and skillfully, as she could, Morgan hurried to the hill on the opposite side of the warehouse. She scurried up the side of the hill, finding the third window was at a level she could crouch below, while stealing careful glances over the ledge. Her stomach dropped again as she saw Castiel, still bound, but a clearly painful movement of his head washed a strange relief over Morgan, at least he was alive.

Her attention was quickly stolen from the angel to the two demons sparring in the open space, Dagon lunged at Ramiel, but her brother used the momentum to grab her midair and roughly launch her into the concrete wall opposite Morgan's window. Dagon fell, but was down for less than a moment before jumping to her feet and continuing the assault on Ramiel. Morgan barely remembered to look back on Castiel, covering her mouth when she gasped. Dean had appeared next to him, expertly working to remove the chains around his friend. Sam was nowhere to be seen.

Dagon had hit Ramiel with a blast powerful enough to send him through the opposite wall from Morgan, her stomach twisted at the realization it could easily have been the one she was crouched against, then faced with a livid Prince of Hell. Perhaps she should not have left the Impala.

Morgan could see Dagon's shoulders heaving from heavy breath as she stood defensively at the gaping hole her brother had just created, but Ramiel sauntered through the steaming ruble with a smirk. His expression changed, however as he glanced towards the angel.

Morgan felt her heart pumping hard in her chest, her hands clammy, as her brother realized he'd been found. Dean had worked quickly, though, and Castiel was already freed, leaning on Dean's shoulder for support, but they'd hardly moved a foot from the place the angel had been bound.

"Winchester," Dagon snarled, "We were hoping you'd show up."

"Well, I didn't wanna interrupt y'r'little family meeting," Dean smirked, Morgan was almost proud of his sarcasm in the face of fatal danger, if she didn't want to hit him for the stupidity.

"Where's y'r'brother?" Ramiel asked, "and this powerless little sister we've heard so much about?"

"Worry 'bout'cher own," Dean said, an angel blade sliding into his hand from his jacket sleeve.

"Wanna dance, boy?" Ramiel shimmied, taking a few steps towards the pair, "I got moves you've never seen."

Morgan briefly caught a wave of brown hair whip behind a steel support beam and her stomach dropped.

"Dean, they," Castiel was trying to speak through pained breaths, "have," he inhaled sharply and the demons laughed.

"He's trying to tell you we have this," Ramiel jeered, flashing an antique gun in his hand that he seemed to pull from thin air, Morgan couldn't miss Dean's eyes bulging at the pistol, "little gift from the bottom feeders, oh wait, you know Crowley. Don't you?" Dean said nothing, but he raised the blade a bit in his hand, "Your pet angel here was trying to steal this from me, no doubt to protect your little family from paying for what you did."

"And what is that exactly?" Dean scoffed.

"You KILLED Lucifer!" Dagon screamed, taking a few hurried steps only to be blocked by her brother's arm, throwing him an incredulous glare.

"Dagon," Ramiel smiled, "you had your fun, now I get to have mine."

Castiel pulled his arm from Dean's shoulders with effort, staggering for a moment under his own weight, but managed to hold himself in a defensive position, swaying only slightly. Morgan saw Dean glance at him, though keeping his focus on the Princes, whispering something she couldn't hear, Castiel shook his head.

"I think we're missing someone," Ramiel tapped the thin barrel of the gun on his shoulder before lurching his free hand towards the steel support beam and Morgan heard Sam grunt loudly in pain.

She shoved her fist in her mouth, stifling a cry as her beloved brother was dragged by an invisible force to the floor between the opposing pairs. He rolled towards Dean, jumping to his feet, the demon knife clutched in his hand. Morgan watched as Ramiel spun the antique pistol in his hand, arrogant tricks with a smug smile.

"Well, we almost got the whole gang here," he chuckled, tapping his head in an overly dramatic gesture of thought, "Where, oh, where, could y'r'broken little witch be?"

"Think we're stupid enough t'bring her with?" Dean spat and Morgan wondered if his stomach was twisting as much as hers, but doubted it.

"I do think your stupid, yes," Ramiel nodded, "We'll find her, wherever you stashed her."

"She has nothing t'do with this!" Sam shouted, "I killed Lucifer!"

"Thank you for the confession, boy," Ramiel held Dagon back again with one arm, "but we know. We're going to kill all of you, your sister is simply a gift."

"We're gonna feed her to the wolves!" Dagon cackled and Morgan's blood ran cold, though she didn't fully understand the threat.

"Y'r'not gonna touch her," Dean growled, "I'm gonna get that gun from you, 'n I'm gonna kill both of you, dead."

"I'd be very interested to see that," Ramiel chuckled, lowering his arm on his sister and she started taking menacing steps towards the trio.


	28. Chapter 28

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Minor spanking of a minor

Morgan saw Sam take a small step back, but Dean stayed rooted to the spot, aggressively facing his approaching opponent. Castiel was barely managing to stay upright. Morgan's mouth was dry and she couldn't take her eyes off the scene, Ramiel spinning the pistol teasingly in his hand. Dagon was only a few feet away from Dean, slicing her blade aggressively in the air as she sauntered closer, cackling madly.

A terrible, wonderful thought occurred to Morgan as Ramiel continued laughing and tossing the gun between his fingers, arrogantly assuming it was safe in his relaxed grasp. She focused all her attention on her oldest brother as he shuffled back from the approaching demon, hoping her idea worked, and screamed in her head 'DEAN! CATCH!'.

Morgan then quickly focused all her energy on the pistol in Ramiel's unsuspecting hand and forced it towards her brother, missing his very momentary glare towards the upper window at the dark-haired girl peering over the sill before he seized the pistol by the grip and it fired in the same moment.

Everything stopped. Ramiel staggered momentarily before he seemed to be struck by lightning and his body fell to the ground. Lifeless.

Dagon screamed. Sam looked shocked. Castiel lunged and Dean pulled him back as he cocked the pistol at the raging demon. He fired in the same moment she disappeared. No body lay on the ground and the sound of the bullet ricocheting off the steal walls reverberated in Morgan's ears.

For a few moments, they all stayed very still and surveyed the surroundings, Morgan felt especially exposed by herself on the hill outside the still smoldering warehouse. But once Dean determined there was no longer an immediate threat, his fiery green eyes landed back on the matching set behind the window and Morgan's stomach dropped. She bolted towards the Impala, parked behind the dumpsters, as fast as she could.

The sound of the warehouse door slamming vaguely registered as she was nearing the sedan. Why was she running? Dean was going to catch her and she had never seen him that angry. Hadn't she helped? What would they have done without her back there? What did Dagon mean, feeding her to the wolves? Her mind bounced in so many directions as she rounded the dumpster and found her feet leaving the ground.

Dean had her around the waist, pinned to his side easily, and took a few steps towards the hood of the massive muscle car.

"Dean! I'm sorry, I was-"

"Oh y'r'so not," he snarled, "y'r'gonna be though."

Morgan found herself upended over the front of the Impala, staring at the gleaming black paint and felt a biting swat cross her bottom, another, another, he was peppering hard swats on her denim clad behind as fast as he could. She couldn't push herself up and her kicking feet didn't even scrape the ground as her brother's hard hand connected on her still sore backside. Morgan wriggled and pled through gasps, but Dean was deaf to her rambling apologies as his palm found both cheeks alternatively.

"DEAN!" Sam's deep shout made the rapid assault cease, "STOP!"

Morgan was sniffling, fighting tears and trying to push herself off the hood of the Impala, though Dean's hand still held her down firmly. She heard Sam continue shouting and turned her head to see him approaching slowly with Castiel's arm draped over his shoulders for support.

"You need to calm down!" Sam insisted.

"She was told to stay in the car!" Dean yelled and Morgan winced, instinctually knowing he was raising his open palm again, waiting for the stinging smack.

"Dean, I know!" Sam urged, "But stop! This isn't the time or place! We're gonna talk about what just happened, but you need t'calm the fuck down, right now! We need t'go!"

Morgan heard her oldest brother take a deep breath and suddenly she felt the pressure on her back release and was pulled to a standing position. Dean's eyes were narrow and his nostrils flared a bit as he spoke in a low growl.

"We are not done, little girl."

Morgan nodded, her focus fixed on her boots, but felt Sam's warm presence approach and Dean abandoned his attention on her to Castiel. The oldest slowly helped the angel into the passenger side of the backseat as Sam pulled Morgan to the rear driver's side door.

"Morgan," he began, but she shook her head.

"I'm sorry, Sam," Morgan started to babble, "I just, I felt like I had t'help, it was stupid, I just got this, impulse, I just became a witch again-"

"Morgan," he quietly stopped her rambling, "it was a bad move to leave the car," she nodded at her feet in agreement, "but," she slowly glanced up at him, "that move with The Colt was perfect."

She couldn't help a small grin as he opened the rear driver's door for her and she carefully slid next to Castiel, the brief assault on her backside had inflamed the lingering soreness from the previous day's punishment. She was sure it was nothing to how the angel felt as he labored for breath, leaning against the window with his eyes shut. Morgan felt her throat tighten as she assessed how broken Castiel looked. Turning his head slightly, his clear blue eyes half opened and he tried to smile weakly.

"Morgan, I'm," the words took him several moments each to force from his bleeding mouth.

"Cas," she hushed him quietly, "rest, please," blood was still seeping through his white shirt onto his trench coat from the slices Dagon had made, "I can, again, I mean. Can I?"

At his small head nod and what sounded like a very hushed chuckle, Morgan turned on her knees towards him and pulled the bok Gungnir from her backpack on the floor. She quickly skimmed to the 'Remedium' section and scanned the words until she found the ones she was looking for, with several remedies on each page it took her a minute to find 'Laceratione' and the incantation scrawled below the title.

"Morgan," Dean's gruff tone pulled her attention from the book, "what're y'doin'?"

"He's bleeding," she insisted, "I can heal the cuts-"

"Stop," he growled, "we'll get some place safe 'n patch 'im up, he can heal himself when he's recharged."

"But, Dean-"

"No, Morgan!" he barked, slamming his hand on the steering wheel.

"Dean," Sam's tone was calm as he narrowed his eyes at his brother, "She can help him now."

Dean responded with a cold glare at Sam and the younger brother sighed, but said nothing.

"Dean," Castiel croaked, "please."

Morgan saw Dean's jaw twitch, but he couldn't refuse his agonized friend and forced a single word through gritted teeth, "Fine."

Dean's begrudging permission made Morgan's stomach swirl with strange guilt, but Castiel's pleading eyes gave her the resolve she needed. Placing her hand flat, hovering hardly an inch over the first gash on his side.

"Suo in cute sana ex vulnere," the Latin incantation burst with determination from her lips as she felt a force warming her hand and a soft purple glow swirled around the affected area, elation at the magic spreading to every cell.

The angel's face grimaced briefly before relaxing into a slightly less pained expression, he smiled when his eyes opened at her and, with shaking hands, Castiel carefully pulled his trench coat open further, revealing more deep wounds riddling his torso. Morgan couldn't help a whimper at the damage up close and felt Castiel take her hand weakly.

"Thank, you," he breathed, "I'm, sorry, I, didn't, mean, to, scare, you."

"Cas," she shook her head at him earnestly, "don't worry about it, please, I'm fine. Let's get you healed up. Okay?"

He nodded slowly and without further delay, Morgan repeated the process on one long slash after another.

The ride was silent, Dean didn't even put on the radio as he barreled out of the city limits. They drove forever. The sun had set hours before they stopped at a motel, the usual run-down style hovel Dean always chose. He kicked open his door and got out, Morgan followed, but was immediately blocked by her very stern oldest brother.

"Stay," he growled threateningly and she slowly retracted into the backseat from his menacing glare, Dean shut her door as he moved around to assist Sam getting Castiel out of the passenger side.

Morgan's stomach twisted and her bottom throbbed a bit, she knew what was coming, but it seemed so unfair. She'd helped! Even Sam seemed to think her interference had been beneficial, Dean however, remained stone faced.

Only a minute after they helped the angel into their room, Dean shut the door on his exit, but it was quickly opened again by Sam.

"Dean," he said warningly.

"Take care'a Cas, Sam," Dean ordered, lurching the driver's door open again and their conversation got louder, "I'm gonna take care'a this."

"Dean," Sam sounded pleading, "if she hadn't-"

"Don't, Sam!" Dean snapped, "I'll kick y'r'ass too."

Morgan couldn't see Dean's face and was expecting Sam to retort again, trying to defend her actions, but his resolve faltered at their oldest brother's threatening tone and he smirked sadly at Morgan through the windshield before closing the motel door. 'Shit, I'm so screwed.'

Dean dropped behind the wheel, turned the engine over and left the motel parking lot without another word. Morgan's hands were clammy, she didn't like sitting in the backseat with just Dean in the car, unsure of the destination, but very sure of what would happen when they got there. She decided she had to try and explain herself.

"Dean, I-" Morgan began, but was quickly halted by a loud finger snap.

He continued staring straight ahead, silently, as they passed darkened houses and pale streetlights. Morgan wondered where they were going, but didn't bother trying to ask. The drove for about fifteen minutes in dead quiet before Dean slowed to the side of a residential street and turned the headlights off after throwing the shifter in park. Morgan surveyed the area, a historical-district neighborhood with beautiful Victorian homes lining the well-manicured lawns. Why were they there?

"Did you know Dad was from Illinois?" Dean asked suddenly.

"Uh, no," Morgan stammered her unprepared response, "I didn't. Where?"

"Here," Dean pointed out the window to a two-story, pale blue house across the street, "Normal, Illinois. That's where he lived 'til Henry got stuck in the future, but Dad didn't know that, he thought he left him."

Morgan stared at the dark house, wondering which window had been their Dad's and how many nights had the young John spent with his nose pressed to the glass, hoping his father was coming home, before abandoning hope for resentment.

"Dean?" she tried again, hoping he'd at least explain the nostalgic detour.

"You made my heart stop, Morgan," he said quietly, still facing forward, "I never should've brought you there, it was my fault for being so focused on gettin' Cas back."

"But the gun," she urged and Dean finally turned in his seat.

"Morgan," he leveled her with a serious expression, "I'm not gonna pretend that your sneak attack didn't help, you saved my ass, kid, 'n returned somethin' that means a lot to me," light gleamed off the antique barrel of the pistol in his hand, "meant a lot t'Dad too, he searched for this thing," Dean scoffed lightly, "years he searched f'r'this thing."

"Where was it?" she asked quietly, her eyes focused on the intricate markings.

"Daniel Elkins had it," Dean smirked at Morgan's eye bulge, "we managed to steal it back from the vamps who killed him for it, but Dad, uh," his eyes glazed over and his gaze dropped as he continued, "he traded the gun, and his soul, to Azazel, when I was, uh."

"When you were dying," Morgan finished for him and Dean nodded.

"We got yellow-eyes though," he continued, glancing at her, "I ever tell you about that?" Morgan shook her head, she'd never heard the details behind how they'd killed the first Prince of Hell they'd encountered, "This gate to hell had been opened, part of his plan, 'n the reason there's so many damn demons here now, but it wasn't just the bad souls that escaped, Dad dragged himself outta the pit that night," Morgan listened closely, hardly breathing as he spoke, "Azazel nearly had me, but, uh, Dad went after him, gave me time t'grab The Colt 'n pop that sonuvabitch in the heart."

Morgan had no words, their father had loved his sons so much he not only sold his soul for one of them, but forced his way out of Hell at the first opportunity to save them. Tears started to fill her eyes, wishing she'd had one chance to meet the incredible man.

"Dad wasn't perfect," Dean told her, "he did the best he could, 'n sometimes he did what he thought was best, even if it wasn't," Morgan wondered how this had to do with her disobeying at the warehouse, but listened as he spoke, "I'm not perfect either, I screwed up today, big. I shouldn't've just let you take Sophie's powers so fast-"

"Let me?" Morgan couldn't help the angry scoff from bursting out.

Dean narrowed his eyes at her, "Oh, you think that was all your decision?"

"It's my life," she said as calmly as she could.

"Yeah," he nodded curtly, "an' I'm your big brother, it's my job's t'make sure you don't make stupid choices."

"Dean, it wasn't," Morgan couldn't help her voice breaking from the tightness in her throat, wiping a few tears away quickly with her jacket sleeve, "I'm not-"

"Not what?" he challenged.

"I'm not normal!" she screamed through a sob, "I'm a witch! I was born a witch! I'm not normal 'n I was never s'posed to be! I finally feel like myself again," the last words she cried quietly, burying her head in her hands, praying he'd still love her.

Her door lurched open and Morgan shrank to the passenger side, sure what Dean was doing as he slid onto the seat next to her. When his arms wrapped around her, however, Morgan was surprised by the tenderness and cried harder, clinging to his shirt as he pulled her onto his lap. A soft kiss touched her hair and she managed to calm her emotions.

"Having magic doesn't make you invincible, Morgan," he said, "You were overly confident t'day and that could'a ended really bad. I messed up by movin' too quick, but you were given a direct order to stay right here. Weren't you?" she nodded into his shirt, her behind tingled again with anticipation of the impending punishment, "An' you disobeyed me, didn't you?" again she nodded, "Didn't we just have the runnin' into dangerous crap conversation yesterday?" her nod was accompanied by a quiet sob this time, "But you felt your new powers were enough t'take on a couple Princes of Hell?"

"No, I didn't," she shook her head, but the disbelieving scowl Dean gave her forced a small pout as she nodded in admittance, "I wasn't gonna go in, I just wanted to, I thought I could, help you guys."

"You did," he conceded, "but you also defied me 'n put y'rself in an extremely dangerous situation. You realize, if you'd died, I wouldn't be able t'live with myself, knowing I brought you there, I put you in that situation?"

"Dean, you didn't-" she tried, guilt swirling in her gut at his words.

"I did," he interrupted, "I screwed up as a big brother t'day, because I was trying to save my friend. I should've put the brakes on at the Waldorf 'n I didn't, I shouldn't've brought you with at all," she sobbed at the confession, afraid his love was faltering in his remorse.

"Dean," she urged, forcing her emotions under control, "Please, don't regret this, please don't regret my magic, me," she whispered the last word before taking a deep breath and pushing on before he could respond, "I, was overly confident today, I'm sorry, I should've controlled the impulse but I didn't, I was just, I felt, it was like-"

"You were high," Dean said firmly, "an I don't know if I regret it, hope I won't, but right now I just wish I understood better what happened. I'm hoping this cockiness is a temporary side-effect from, y'know, but Morgan, I swear, you pull somethin' like that again, it's gonna be so much worse than this time."

Her stomach squirmed, "Y'r'gonna?"

"Oh, yeah," he nodded.

"Why are we here then?" Morgan couldn't help the question, not that she was trying to move her punishment along any faster.

"Y'r'Mother was a powerful witch," Dean remarked, "an' jeezus y'r'related to royal witches 'n anti-Christs 'n y'know, Odin, but, since we're drivin' through, I wanted t'show you that this side, the plain ol' Joe blow mortal side, may not look like much on paper, may not'a come from much either, but we don't give up. I know Dad would've been proud'a all of us t'day, that's not sayin' he wouldn't've already belted y'r'ass 'til y'couldn't sit f'r'a week, but he'd'a been proud'a what we did," he nodded at the blue house, "Dad thought his dad left him, I think that had a lot t'do with how he was with us. I'm sorry you never got a chance t'meet him, he would'a just fallin' in love with you, Sweetie," Dean smiled at her questionable glance, "He would've, but you've got me, 'n Sam, and you don't know how much I wish you could'a met him, but I want you t'know how strong he was, and Henry, 'n prob'lly every generation of Winchester before that. You have centuries of crazy magical strength on one side, but we ain't lackin' over here."

"I know," she nodded in agreement, "I'm proud, prouder than any of the rest, I really am."

"An' if this is how it's gonna be now," he raised his eyebrows, "you havin' magic again, I get that you wanna help, but there's still rules, hell more now," Dean halted as his phone started playing in his pocket and Morgan slid onto the seat to let him grab it, shaking his head and declining the call, "What was- rules, we're gonna-"

Morgan's phone started buzzing loudly and she pulled it from her jacket pocket, seeing Sam's name on the screen she glanced at Dean. He grabbed the phone, sliding his finger on the screen before holding it to his ear.

"What? – Kinda in the middle'a somethin' – No, not, not yet – What?" Morgan watched as Dean's face lost color in the pale light of the street lamp, "We're on our way back."

"Is Sam okay?" Morgan asked quickly as Dean pushed out of the backseat.

"Yeah," he shut the door hard before she could follow and dropped behind the wheel in a moment, "They're fine, just, uh, Cas has some info."

"Is it about what Dagon said?" Morgan asked, realizing as it spilled out that she'd reminded him about her spying on the warehouse scene.

He scowled in the rearview mirror, but his eyes softened, "Yeah, sounds like it, I know as much as you, kid."

"Dean?" she began weakly as he turned the sedan around in the street, "Are you still gonna-"

"Postponed, not canceled," he assured her gruffly.

Morgan wished he'd just gotten it over with, her stomach squirmed with anticipation and now guilt. She didn't want to scare him, there were many things she hadn't considered in her very self-assured state, but he was right, magic didn't make her invincible. She had helped, he was not debating that and it sounded like he was open to possibly thinking about letting her help them again, but as everything in their family, it would be under his rules. One rule that never changed from the first day she was with them, follow orders. She'd deliberately defied that rule, Dean's firm command and knew full well what would happen. She just really didn't want to wait for it.


	29. Chapter 29

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Get ready for information overload!

The drive back to the motel was not as awkward as leaving had been, Dean turned the radio on and when Morgan sat in the middle, leaning forward a bit to speak, he gestured her to climb onto the front seat, which she did carefully.

"So, uh, what's the big deal about that gun?" Morgan nodded at the antique pistol tucked next to Dean on the seat.

"This gun," Dean picked it up and handed it to her, she took it carefully, listening intently as he spoke, "was made in eighteen-thirty-five by a hunter named Samuel Colt-"

"The inventor?" Morgan burst in quickly.

"Among many things," Dean nodded, "but he was a hunter, like us, 'n according to the legend Dad told Sam 'n me, the night'a the Alamo, Hailey's Comet was in the sky 'n Samuel Colt made this gun, it can kill just about anything."

"Just about?" she inclined her head at him.

"Well," he shrugged, "it didn't work on Lucifer, but we got him in the end."

"Yeah," Morgan scoffed, "and seriously pissed off his minions."

"But this works on them," Dean smirked, pointing to the gun in her hands.

Morgan examined the grip where a pentagram was carved into the dark wood and let her eyes travel up the aged barrel to the inscription engraved on the side.

"I will fear no evil," she read aloud.

"What?" Dean glanced at her with a furrowed brow.

"That's what it says," Morgan slid her finger along the Latin words, "I will fear no evil."

"Huh," he nodded, "makes sense, y'know I think Bobby mentioned that when we were rebuildin' it."

"You rebuilt this?" she was astonished.

"No," Dean chuckled, shaking his head, "Bobby was the mastermind behind that, I mostly helped him clean a few pieces."

"Bobby was, uh, that guy who's cabin we went to, right?" Morgan asked, putting the Colt back in Dean's hand.

"Yeah," he nodded, "he helped Sam 'n me a lot, kinda like a second father t'us."

"Did he know Dad?" she'd heard Bobby's name seldom, never having had a chance to find out more about the man who brought happiness and sadness to her brothers' eyes whenever he was mentioned.

"Oh, yeah," Dean scoffed, "they were, friends, sort'a," he chuckled to himself, shaking his head before continuing, "Dad had a tendency t'rub people the wrong way, 'n Bobby wasn't always a fan'a how we were raised, I think that was their biggest problem with each other, not that they didn't find more."

"What was he like?" Morgan could tell from Dean's expression, Bobby had been one of the few people he had loved.

"Grumpy," Dean smiled, "guy was a genius, taught Sam 'n me as much about huntin' as Dad did, 'n definitely more about other stuff," he chuckled again at the memory, "he spoke a ton'a languages, could decipher the most obscure crap from a thousand years ago, just a really awesome guy, you'd've liked him, 'n he'd've loved you."

"Why's that?" she giggled lightly.

"He just would've," Dean gave her a small smile and turned back to the road ahead.

When the Impala grumbled into the spot in front of their motel room door, Sam came out, gun at his side, and shifted his gaze before approaching the passenger side quickly. Morgan looked at Dean, he was eyeing Sam with concerned suspicion as the younger brother lurched her door open and gently grabbed her by the upper arm, pulling her from the car.

"Sam, wh-" she tried to wrench her arm from him, but he wouldn't let go.

"C'mon," he jerked his head at Dean and half-dragged Morgan into the room.

Castiel was lying on one of the beds, propped against the headboard, free of his bloody clothing, his bare chest was visible above the blankets, but no longer bore the cuts from Dagon's torture. He was much more alert than the hours of flitting in and out of consciousness in the backseat. Dean shut the door on his entrance, tossing a few duffel bags on the floor by the bed, and Sam locked the deadbolt, securing the chain.

"How y'doin' buddy?" Dean sat on the end of Castiel's bed carefully.

"Better," the angel nodded, "I'm not at full power, but a day or two of rest and I should be fine."

"So, what's goin' on? Why're you freakin' out?" Dean looked from Castiel to Sam, Morgan sat on the other bed, having finally regained control of her arm again.

"The Princes' plan," Castiel began, "it's not just a matter of killing us to revenge Lucifer, they're trying to follow through with his old plan."

"The apocalypse?" Dean scoffed, "Hasn't that ship sailed?"

"The Judeo-Christian apocalypse, yes," Castiel agreed, "so, in homage to their fallen master, they found another."

"Remember those crazy in laws'a Garth's?" Sam asked Dean bitterly, "Well, I guess they weren't the only Maw of Fenris cult."

Dean's color drained, "Ragnarok?" Sam nodded and Dean shook his head, "Why are the Princes involved with them? They'd think they're way too good t'slum it with werewolves."

"They do," Castiel told him, "Well, considering Ramiel is dead now and Asmodeous didn't want to be there to begin with, best case scenario we only have Dagon to concern ourselves with."

"But why is she working with them and why is she-" Dean landed his eyes on Morgan as he pointed at her, but he stopped and fear flashed in his eyes, "Shit."

"Yeah," Sam nodded with a tightlipped, sarcastic smile.

"What?" Morgan turned her attention from Sam to Dean to Castiel, hoping someone would explain the tension settling around them.

"Do you know the story of Ragnarok?" Castiel asked and Morgan shook her head, "It's Norse Mythology's end-of-days, when humans cease to rule and monsters take over the world."

"The wolf Fenris," Sam began, "some werewolves worship him as a sort of deity, he starts Ragnarok by devouring Odin."

"Oh," she let his words sink in, "shit."

Suddenly Dagon's threat made perfect sense and Morgan's blood ran cold. For a what felt like several minutes, the room was deathly quiet as the reality of a new terror settled over them. Characteristically, the angel broke the stillness with a vaguely related topic.

"Morgan," Castiel looked sadly at her, "I'm very sorry for scaring you, I should not have taken those books from your bedroom."

"Cas," she felt guilty at his apology, she'd been livid at him when it happened, but now she had nothing but forgiveness for him, "please, it's fine."

"What was that all about?" Dean turned on his friend.

"I had heard rumblings of the Princes being back," Castiel began, "we'd believed them to be dead, but that was not the case. I was hoping to find something, a spell or weapon and take care of the situation without involving the rest of you."

"Why?" Dean's question was laced with anger and a hint of grief.

Castiel looked at Morgan with a guilty smirk, "You seemed to have found a normal life, liking school and making friends, I wanted you to have that."

Morgan's throat tightened and the angel blurred in front of her as she took the two steps to his bed and gently wrapped her arms around his neck. A moment later, an awkward hand found her back to complete the hug.

"You have magic again," Castiel commented neutrally, but there was a distinct curl in the corners of his lips, "Sam told me of your visit to the Waldorf. When I am better, I would like to examine these powers."

"Sure, Cas," she nodded, sitting back on the other bed, hoping the angel's approval would put her brothers' concerns at ease about her newly attained magic.

"So, you went after them by yourself?" Dean's question was as hard as the eyes he narrowed on Castiel.

"I didn't want to involve you until I knew the situation," Castiel told him.

"But you got caught," Dean said bitterly and Castiel dipped his head a bit, "How'd you figure out Ramiel had The Colt?"

"Crowley told me," the angel admitted and a low growling sound escaped Dean's closed lips, "I didn't know he'd given it to them."

"Yeah, well," Sam interjected angrily, "seems Crowley had a few secrets about this trip."

"Oh, don't tell me your disappointed, Samantha," they all whipped their heads towards the gravelly voice, Crowley was leaning on the doorframe of the bathroom, but sidestepped quickly out of the way as Sam barreled at him, slamming the door quickly on the tallest Winchester.

"Crowley!" Sam yelled, pounding on the door so hard the frame shook, "Open this goddamn door!"

"Crowley!" Dean barked over Sam's pounding and approached the demon ominously.

"Control your brother, Squirrel," Crowley leveled Dean with a nasty glare before releasing the door handle and taking a few steps away as Sam lurched the door open and tried to advance again on the demon, but was stopped by Dean's arm across his chest.

"Cool it," Dean growled at his younger brother, who shot him an incredulous glare, "Now."

Sam's eyes narrowed further at Dean, but he didn't say a word as he shifted his gaze to Crowley and sat next to Morgan.

"I did give Ramiel The Colt," Crowley admitted, pulling a flask from inside his sport coat, "that's how I knew he had it."

"Why?" Dean growled.

"It was years ago," he shrugged and sipped from his flask, "Lilith was dead, Lucifer in the cage, there was no one on the throne. As, at that time, the King of the Crossroads, I was given the unpleasant task of luring Ramiel, the oldest of the Princes, to the job, but he was quite uninterested."

"Wait," Sam chuckled, "so that's how you got t'be king? The real king didn't want it?"

"Do you hear something?" Crowley turned his head around dramatically, "Sounded like a moose in heat," Morgan smirked at the demon, stifling her amusement in solidarity for her brother, nearly feeling the heat radiating off Sam, Crowley beamed at her, "I must say, darling, you're glowing. How was your meeting with Madam Petit?"

Morgan couldn't help a small grin, but Dean interjected bitterly, "You told me they could help us."

"And did she not?" Crowley gestured at Morgan.

"You knew?" Dean took a step towards Crowley and the demon's smirk faltered briefly.

"After learning of Morgan and her, past," Crowley continued, "Sophie was appalled and guilt ridden, she felt she should've known," his eyes were almost soft when he looked at Morgan, "When I told her of Lucifer and the loss of your magic, she fell apart, literally, it was uncomfortable for a few minutes, but she's always been an emotional woman. Knowing her life was coming to end, her magic being the only thing that's kept her alive this long, she wanted to make a deal with her own soul for you to regain your powers."

"What?!" the Winchesters and Castiel scoffed simultaneously.

"I said NO DEMON MAGIC!" Dean raged and Crowley calmly put his hands up defensively.

"Did I say I made a deal with her?" he asked bluntly, "No, I said she wanted to, but seeing as I own her soul already it was a pointless attempt at a wager."

"Sophie sold her soul?" Morgan asked quietly, staring in terror at her own hands.

"She was born a witch," Crowley assured her, "all that magic is organic, but yes, hundreds of years ago, she became a little forgetful over the last century, but thankfully she remembered your Mother's book. I knew you had it from the description she gave me, the book you used for your overly powerful protection spells in Colorado. Though you won't have that problem now."

"What'd you mean?" Morgan asked, feeling calmer about the magic pulsing through her veins.

"Your magic is containable now," he told her, "this is power that can grow in you, not you having to grow into it, it's a miracle your old magic didn't kill you."

For a few moments, they were all silent as Crowley's words sunk in, but Castiel broke the quiet, his clear, blue eyes focused on Morgan.

"He's right."

"Cas?" Dean turned to his friend, his eyebrows nearly touching in confusion.

"I can only assume Odin's bloodline kept her mortal body from rupturing at the strength," Castiel continued, "she was powerful when I first met her, but as it amplified from more complex spells and exposure to the Book of the Damned, it was likely, god's blood or not, her human form would not be able to hold that much magic."

"And were you plannin' on sharin' this information?" Dean growled.

"She lost her magic," the angel looked stunned, "it didn't seem to matter anymore."

"And now?" Morgan looked from Castiel to Crowley.

"You tell me," the demon smiled and took a sip of his flask.

Morgan grinned, snapping her fingers together and a purple flame appeared between them, Crowley held her gaze as she opened her palm, letting the fire grow into a ball of flames and underhand tossed it to the demon. A violet trail crossed the room before he snatched it in his empty hand, examining the fireball closely.

"You will be a very powerful witch, Morgan, I have no doubt" Crowley closed his fist and a puff of purple smoke escaped his grasp, "as long as the wolves don't get you."

"HEY!" Sam stood and advanced with Dean, but Crowley took a few defensive steps backwards.

"Boys," he chuckled, "a little ambience. I'm sorry if I hit a sore spot, I suppose you all just found out about the mud of fluffy or whatever those psychopaths call themselves-"

"Maw of Fenris," Sam and Dean said angrily together and the oldest continued, "And don't you try 'n tell me you didn't know, you sonuvabitch."

"Of course, I knew," Crowley shrugged, but waved his hands, flask included, in an almost bored, self-justifying manner, "She's with you two! Where would she have been safer?" he stared from Sam to Dean, neither of whom spoke, "And she got her powers back, and you saved your boyfriend, and you got the Colt and YOU KILLED A PRINCE OF HELL! YOU'RE GODDAMNED BLOODY WELCOME!" Crowley's shouting was so sudden they all leaned back at the outburst, after looking hard at all of them, except when his eyes lingered on Morgan with a near smile, the demon continued, his tone light again, "Yes, there is a group of werewolves gaining some momentum with the help of Dagon and the demons she's managed to corrupt. Their ultimate plan, as you already know, is to start a new apocalypse, Ragnarok. The leader of the wolves is named, Phelan, claims he's a descendant of Fenris, nasty fellow really."

"He's gonna eat me?" Morgan breathed quietly, but the room was silent.

"HEY!" both brothers rounded on her.

"He's going to try," Crowley confirmed with a smirk, "but you're a clever little witch, I'm sure you 'n your brothers will come up with something," and with a wink he was gone.

For only a moment the room was silent, then Dean erupted, Sam yelled at equal volume and Morgan couldn't understand either as they shouted at each other, glancing at the angel, Castiel rolled his eyes.

"Guys," he tried weakly, gaining no one's attention.

"Hey!" Morgan shouted, garnering no more of a response and took a deep breath before bellowing, "Assholes!"

Immediately, both brothers stopped arguing and turned at her, sending a shiver down her spine.

"S'cuse me?" Dean cocked his head a bit, somehow making himself look more intimidating.

"Why are you yelling?" she implored of them both, "If anyone here has a reason to be flyin' off the damn handle it's me!"

Sam offered Dean a conceding look and the oldest grudgingly returned it before looking passed his sister to Castiel, "Why is it, no matter which god f'r'saken apocalypse it is, it's always us?"

"Bad luck," Castiel offered with a forced grin that looked more like a grimace.

They stayed the night, but didn't unpack anything. Dean was up within hours of falling asleep on the floor near the door and Sam was waking Morgan up well before she wanted to be woken. Castiel needed less help into the backseat of the Impala, Morgan wished she didn't have to sit on the side with the cooler just because her legs were shorter, they weren't that short. Within minutes of leaving the motel, though, she ended up curling against the door, with her feet tucked close, in the pale dawn light as the powerful sedan rumbled softly beneath her.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Can you tell I love writing Crowley? Have I said it enough? He's just so deliciously sarcastic!


	30. Chapter 30

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> There is a spanking scene in this chapter

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you to my reviewers! You guys are seriously putting the biggest smile on my face every time I see you comment on one of my chapters =) Please keep it up, I've got a lot more for you!

When she blinked her eyes open in the bright sunlight, Morgan was unsurprised to see they were still surrounded by miles of fields. Sam was trying to convince Dean that corn wasn't really a natural grain humans are intended to digest, the oldest arguing indignantly, despite his only repeated point being his consuming of corn all the time and still being alive. Though Morgan thought that was a bit skewed considered how many times Dean had actually died, albeit none of it by fault of corn, tacos once, unless Sam had been making a joke.

She yawned and stretched an arm above her head, turning away from the window and saw Castiel leaning over the bok Gungnir, open to the page of Odin's blood symbol.

"Hey," she narrowed her eyes at him, "better not take that."

The angel scoffed lightly and closed the ancient volume, setting it between them on the seat, "I was only examining the spellwork."

"And?" Morgan inclined her head with interest.

"It's quite a magnificent piece of magic," he admitted and Morgan saw her brother's heads turn slightly to listen closer to the angel, "This is indeed Odin's blood, the symbol I've never seen, it must have been one of his own making. It does make sense, he was a very power obsessed, it doesn't surprise me he would want to ensure a failsafe if one of his descendants was born without magic."

"Or had it stolen," Morgan repeated Sophie's words in the same bitter tone.

"I think," Castiel began, "your powers were taken to save you from them. If you had been sent back in the same state, well, Morgan you were a time bomb."

She felt a little resentment at his words, but shrugged, reminding herself none of it mattered now, even if he and Crowley were right about the unnatural amount of magic her body had been nearly unable to contain. Had that been the cause of the painful episodes following an overzealous attempt at a spell? Was it why she didn't feel even the slightest nausea after scrying earlier? This new magic had settled inside her instantly, making her feel at home in her own body again, and though the feeling was different, it was certainly better.

"So where are we?" she asked her brothers, deliberately changing the topic.

"Just outside'a Kansas," Dean told her, "be home in a few hours."

"Hey y'hungry?" Sam turned in his seat with a fast-food bag, "We couldn't wake y'up, got'cha a breakfast san'wich, prob'ly cold now."

"Cool, thanks," Morgan smiled, taking the bag, cold food never bothered her, it was how she'd eaten almost every meal until meeting her brothers, "Hey, have you guys talked t'Claire?"

Sam and Dean looked at each other before both reaching for their phones, Sam had his to his ear first, however, and Dean dropped his on his lap. After several quiet moments, he hung up and gave his brother a smirk, accompanied with a heavy sigh. Dean was dialing in the next moment, his jaw set angrily, then he too hung up and dropped the phone back in his lap.

"Oh, little girl," Dean growled almost too quiet to hear and Morgan's stomach lurched, hoping Claire didn't put her brother in a worse mood before the promised punishment she knew she had coming.

They drove for another hour before Sam's phone rang and Morgan saw Claire's name across the screen as he showed Dean with a smirk before answering.

"Hey. – Yeah, where were you? – Okay. – Yeah, we're a few hours out. – Three 'r four," he turned towards Dean, "E.T.A?"

"When we get there," the oldest answered gruffly.

"We'll be home soon, Claire," Sam returned his attention to the phone conversation, "A'right see ya."

"Where was she?" Dean growled.

"In the library," Sam shrugged, "her phone was charging in her room."

Dean nodded curtly, but Morgan didn't like the direction his mood had taken since Claire hadn't answered her phone on their first attempts. His phone rang and Dean held it to his ear.

"Hello? – Garth! Hey! Thanks f'r'gettin' back t'me. – Well, you remember your ex-step-mother-in-law? – Yeah, didn't think y'could," Dean chuckled darkly, before continuing in a serious tone, "What we're hearin' is there's more Maw of Fenris werewo-lycanthropes out there, they gotta leader named Phelan. Any'a this sound like somethin' you may've heard about recently?" Morgan wasn't sure what to think of the half conversation she was listening to, but was fairly certain her brother was talking to a werewolf, cringing internally at the idea, but listen as he continued, "Yeah, I can't blame ya. – Well, you know Sammy 'n I don't run from a fight, but, uh, we kinda got a horse in the race, unintentionally. – Yeah, you know us, always involved somehow, but, uh, it's our sister. – It's a long story. – Sixteen. – Yeah," he smiled a little, "more sometimes. – Naw, I don't know if that's necessary. – Really? I mean, we'd appreciate it. – Whatever you can dig up. – That wasn't a dog joke, Garth. – I'll send y'the coordinates. – Sounds good, I appreciate it," Dean hung up and looked at Sam, "Garth's heard a few rumblings about a cult of wolves tryin' to gain followers, didn't hear a name, him 'n Bess got the heck outta dodge when some'a her distant cousins started tryin' t'reach out, but he's gonna see what else he can find out 'n meet us at the bunker in a few days."

"Where'd they go? Is the Reverend with them?" Sam asked.

"Didn't say," Dean shrugged, "I didn't ask."

"Clearly," Sam commented dryly.

"Who's Garth?" Morgan directed her question more at Sam, but Dean responded quickly.

"An old hunter friend."

"Didn't realize werewolves could be hunters," sarcasm dripped off her words and Dean raised his eyebrows in the rearview mirror.

"This comin' from the witch in the backseat?" he scoffed and Morgan couldn't help a conceding smirk, "He was a hunter 'n he got bit, but he controls it, found a pretty little werewolf wife 'n they eat animal hearts, not humans."

Morgan nodded, accepting she knew there were plenty of friendly monsters out there, perhaps even counting herself amongst them, but a wariness of werewolves had quickly grown into fear over the last several hours.

\--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Her legs were cramped and despite the soreness in her bottom having mostly subsided, the discomfort had reignited on the long drive without room to stretch out in the backseat. As they pulled into the tunnel, however, she suddenly wished the trip wasn't over, remembering her backside had another appointment with her oldest brother. The more she had thought about it, the more she realized Dean knew they needed her help, he wasn't upset at her for helping, but his view of rules was so black and white the simple fact that she left the Impala was cause for punishment. Morgan gave Sam a small pout through the back window as Dean pulled into the bright garage and he offered a characteristically understanding frown while opening her door.

"Y'r'gonna be okay," Sam whispered, pulling her into his side with an encouraging shake before moving towards the trunk.

Dean shut his door and moved around to help Castiel out of the passenger side while Sam loaded his shoulders with duffel bag straps. Morgan offered her arms to him and he smiled, jerking his head at the two left in the trunk. As the group slowly moved through the familiar tiled hallways towards the open room, Morgan sighed happily, despite what was coming, there was no where she'd rather be than home. Her stomach lurched at the sound of Bryan's deep chuckled accompanied by Claire's giggle, just before they entered the large room. Morgan followed Sam's lead, dumping the duffel bags on and around the map table, as Dean helped Castiel into a chair.

"Y'r'back!" Claire was looking at Morgan while she jumped from her seat at a library table and barreled down the stairs, her friend meeting her at the bottom in a quick embrace, "Are you okay? All of you? What happened? Castiel, holy crap!"

"We'll get into all of it later," Dean said gruffly as Bryan appeared at the top of the stairs, taking each descending step slowly, "Where's Jenny?"

"Takin' a shower," Claire jerked her head towards the hallway, "Fever broke last night, says she feels great."

"Good," Dean nodded, "Shower sounds like a plan. A'right buddy, let's get'cha in a room."

Castiel grunted slightly as Dean helped him to his feet once again and disappeared down the hallway.

"What'cha workin' on?" Sam glanced at Bryan as he asked, focusing mostly on Claire.

"Vampire case," she smiled that smug smile Morgan admired, but her brothers hated.

"Can I talk t'you a minute?" Sam's eyes narrowed on the blonde and she shrugged, leading him down the hallway, Sam taking all but Morgan's duffel bag with him.

"Hey," Bryan grinned, finally reaching the bottom of the stairs, "How was your trip?"

"Hey," Morgan smiled back, her stomach fluttering at the handsome young man, the bruises on his face had healed a bit more since she'd last seen him, "It was, interesting, good, productive anyway. How was, uh, here? How are you?"

"I'm growin' back together," he nodded, gesturing to his side, "Just this one's a bitch, Claire's had to stitch the middle twice already."

Morgan grimaced, then brightened quickly, "I cou-" she stopped herself quickly on the words, the last conversation she'd had with Bryan was about how she was coping not having magic, Morgan wasn't sure how he was going to react to her renewed abilities, stammering as she covered, badly, "Oh, y'know, Cas is gonna need prob'ly another day 'r so, but he'll get'cha good as new like that," she snapped her fingers and a small violet ember ignited between them, Morgan closed her fist on it quickly.

Bryan furrowed his brow and inclined his head a bit at the tightlipped grin she was giving him, he flicked his attention to her closed fist, but shook his head slightly and scoffed lightly, "Uh, yeah, okay. So this Cas is a good guy? He's cool?"

"Yeah," Morgan thought and giggled softly, "Cas is cool, in his own, Castiel way. I'm gonna wash up 'n change. See you soon?"

"I'll be here," he nodded and watched her exit to the hallway with her green duffel slung over one shoulder and brown backpack over the other.

Her stomach growled on the way to her bedroom, simply tossing her bags on the floor by her bed before turning towards the kitchen, the box of frozen burritos calling her name. Dean opened and closed one of the seldom used bedroom doors as she passed.

"Burrito?" she smiled widely at him, hoping to put him in the best mood possible.

"Two," he smirked and they walked together into the kitchen, both stopping dead in the doorway.

Jenny's long naked legs stretched from under the oversized blue flannel, unmistakably Dean's, as she reached on tiptoes for a box of tea on one of the top shelves. Her brother cleared his throat unnaturally and the blonde woman whipped around, her hair damp and face shocked, pulling the shirttails down, nearly crouching to hide herself.

"Oh my God! You're back! I'm so sorry," she spoke very fast, "I didn't know, I knew they were in the library, they literally haven't left it the last day, I found the washing machine, I didn't have anything, I just wanted to make some tea, I'm so sorry, I didn't think you would mind. Do you mind? Oh my-"

"Jenny," Dean stifled a chuckled, "it's fine, really, like so, so," he was nodding as he spoke, but suddenly seemed to remember Morgan was next to him and shook his head as if from a daze, "you're fine, no, I mean it's fine, not you, not that you're not," he made a strange sound like he stopped a word on the tip of his tongue and took a deep breath, dipping his head a little.

"I'm just gonna find some pants," Jenny smiled at them and Morgan stepped towards the refrigerator so she could exit.

"I'm, uh, glad y'r'feelin' better," Dean said sweetly.

"Yeah, well," Jenny's tone was higher and softer than Morgan was used to hearing it, "thanks for savin' my life."

"Oh, anytime," her brother's tone she was more than familiar with, nearly able to see his charming smile even with her back turned to them.

When Dean's heavy boots stepped onto the tile, Morgan turned around with the freezer door open.

"Steak?" she asked.

"Only one's that'r good," Dean scoffed.

"They're crap," Morgan argued jokingly, "The chicken ones are the way t'go."

"Are you two eatin' those nasty burrito things?" Sam half jogged into the kitchen and landed on a chair expertly.

"Yeah," Morgan nodded at him, "Chicken 'r steak, 'n how many?"

"Chicken, two," Sam answered, "Steak one's suck."

"Told you," Morgan smirked at Dean.

"Good," the oldest shrugged, "More f'r'me."

"Dude," Sam said quietly while Morgan dug two more chicken burritos from the box in the freezer, "uh, Jenny."

Dean expelled a hard breath, "Yeah."

"Like, really," Sam put a lot of emphasis on both words.

"Right?!" Dean responded with excitement.

"Y'know, two days ago she was my chemistry teacher," Morgan stared at them and popped a plate of burritos in the microwave.

"She was hot then too," Dean smirked, opening the refrigerator, and chuckled when she stuck her tongue out at him.

"So," Sam began more seriously, "I just talked t'Claire."

"Yeah, and?" Dean tossed Sam a beer and opened his own.

"She's been continuing the vampire hunt in our absence," Sam told his brother, though Morgan listened intently, "with a prodigy."

"Oh, no," Dean's expression hardened and Morgan's stomach lurched, cursing Sam's timing, "no, that's not happenin'."

"Why?" Sam popped the top of his beer and took a sip, Dean looked stunned, Morgan was sure she did as well.

"Are you kidding, Sam?" Dean narrowed his eyes, "I thought we saw eye t'eye here, he's a smart kid, for God's sake his dream school was Stanford! How all of a sudden are you okay with him jumpin' in the life?"

"Not my call," Sam shrugged, "if he wants in, well I understand why, 'n I know you do too, 'n after hearin' what Claire had t'say, y'know it might not be a bad idea for her t'have someone she can trust out there, beyond us," Morgan felt a strange fire roll in her gut, but continued listening as Sam spoke, "I guess he even figured out a pattern none of us saw, yeah, no, I wanna see what the hell they're so excited about too, but man, if he's really into this, I mean this is really what he wants. I'd rather help him succeed than root for him t'fail."

"Yeah, no," Dean ran his hand through his short, greasy hair and wiped it on his jeans after a grimace of disgust, "I hear ya, I guess, I mean," he sighed heavily, "I'll listen. Right now, I'm gonna drink this beer, inhale those burritos and take a very long shower."

Morgan smiled a little, happy his list didn't include her, but she caught his raised eyebrow while setting the hot plate on the island. Silently he reminded her he had not forgotten and her stomach lurched again.

Dean ate quickly, taking the remainder of his beer with him as he left for the shower, leaving Sam and Morgan to munch on their chicken burritos in comfortable silence.

"I tried to talk to him about it," Sam set his empty beer down next to his clean plate and eyed his sister with a sad smirk, "He's as stubborn as Dad sometimes," he shook his head and scoffed softly, "There was this one time, we were kids, well Dean was like sixteen or seventeen, anyway, Dad took us on a hunt, but he had kind of a bad feeling about it when we got there. He told Dean 'n me to stay in the car, but after like fifteen minutes, Dean decided he was man enough to join him and took off into the woods."

"Dad had t'save his ass, did he?" Morgan giggled lightly.

Sam chuckled, "He saved Dad's ass," she felt her eyebrows reaching her hairline in shock, "Yep, John Winchester was cornered and Dean got the jump on the thing in a sneak attack."

"Awesome," she smiled.

"Yeah," Sam nodded in agreement, "Y'know what Dad did?" Morgan shrugged, obviously she didn't, "Dragged Dean back t'the car and walloped him over the hood."

"Even though he saved him?" Morgan asked quietly.

"He disobeyed an order," Sam told her with a little pity in his voice.

She nodded slowly, understanding that while Sam might not agree with the way their brother followed their Dad's legacy in rigidity to the rules, he knew there was no escaping the repercussions of a major insubordination in the Winchester household.

\---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

A long, hot shower was almost perfect after their long trip. Though the water stung her backside further and reminded her of what was inevitably coming, Morgan was still glad to be home, wanting nothing more than her own bed, covered in familiar sheets. She dried off in the bathroom, slipping into her sweatpants and a tank-top after debating for a moment if she should even bother putting on the underwear she'd brought, but considered there might be hope Dean wouldn't take them down.

Her stomach lurched, finding her oldest brother already in her bedroom when she entered. The chair moved to the center of the room and he leaned against the desk in its absence, arms folded over his chest, his expression stern, but not angry.

"So," Dean began as she shut the door slowly, "you're a witch again, like it or not, 'n honestly kid, I really don't hate the idea, I don't. An' I love you to death either way. Understood?"

"Yes, sir," Morgan smiled slightly and nodded.

"Being a witch doesn't make you any less my little sister," he continued, "I get that you were on top'a the world with gettin' magic back, but we've talked, to exhaustion, about you not reacting on emotion. We might not always get so lucky, Morgan," he paused for a moment, closing his eyes and shaking his head a little before speaking again, "We need you, we needed you last time 'n I almost lost you because I didn't want to see that, I won't make that mistake again, this is a team effort, but I'm the frickin' captain. Got it?"

"Yes, sir," she nodded again.

"This is not my favorite thing to do, kid," he stood from the desk and dropped his hands to his belt buckle, "But I'd rather do this 'til you get y'r'head on straight than deal with not havin' you around."

Morgan approached at his gesture, the belt folded in one hand, but before Dean sat, he wrapped his arms around her tightly and placed a gentle kiss on the top of her hair. Then he took his seat, his hand on her arm guided the young witch across his knee, a far too familiar position recently, and within moments, her sweatpants had been shucked to her knees, followed swiftly by her underwear. Morgan hung her head, it had been a wasted debate, she knew Dean's policy.

The metal buckle clinked as the belt slid to the floor and he snugged her closer, putting his other leg around her calves. There was no further preamble before his hand cracked down on her still sore behind and Morgan howled, kicking her feet at the immediate fire reignited on her backside. Dean's hand landed in hard, methodical swats, alternating cheeks, but, as always, focusing mostly on the curve where her thighs began.

"Dee-aaan, I-I'm sssorrrrrrryyyyy, pleeee-aaaaase!" she sobbed and was shocked to feel his hand still, but her stomach sank when the buckle clinked again, "No, no, no, no, please Dean, p-please."

"Morgan," he said softly, rubbing her back, "You will listen to me, 'n stop goin' off half-cocked, you may be a witch, you may be a genius, but you don't know everything, 'n out there, you don't know crap," she nodded sadly in acceptance of his words, but lurching her head upward at the first crack of the leather across her behind.

It came down again, a lash of hot fire in the embers of her punished backside, she gripped his calf tightly, sobbing as another slayed both cheeks, then felt Dean tip her forward, but didn't even have time to whimper in anticipation. Screeching when the belt cut across the very tops of her thighs, followed quickly by one focused right on the curve of her bottom. Morgan stopped wriggling, stopped kicking, just held his leg tightly and bawled limply over his knee.

"I'm so-rry," she cried quietly, sobbing hard again when another biting sting of leather assaulted her aching rear, unable to help another whimpered yell as two fell in quick succession across the sensitive undercurve before her thighs.

The belt hit the tile floor with a crash and Dean's recently punishing hand gently patted her back before sliding her underwear carefully over her behind. Morgan inhaled sharply and whimpered, he gently turned her in his lap and she instantly buried her face in his shirt, gripping his flannel tightly.

"I'm sorry," she whispered.

"I'd be surprised if you weren't a little," Dean smirked, gaining a tiny grin from his sister when he pulled her chin up to look at him, "Who's in charge?"

"You are," she said quietly.

"So, you better start listenin' little girl," his tone was firm, but kind, "Are we clear?"

"Yes, sir," she nodded.

For a few minutes after that, they were quiet, Morgan more than content to stay curled on her brother's lap with his hand mindlessly moving a little up and down her back. Her bottom was certainly in worse shape than she'd ever earned it to be after the last couple days, but she felt calmer knowing it was all over. Would Dean really let her join them? She supposed having her powers back would help with somethings, but she anticipated the threat of the wolves searching for her would provoke him to respond in the same manner he did when Lucifer was on her trail.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope I'm making y'all laugh a little with all the serious stuff going down in this story =)


	31. Chapter 31

Morgan stayed in her room a little while, collecting herself and letting the initial burn in her bottom subside into a throbbing soreness as she poured through the familiar spell books she'd hidden in the bottom dresser drawers. She'd laid on her stomach and coaxed them to her bed by simply crooking a finger, her puffy eyes smiling a bit at the simple action she'd missed being able perform. A rapid knocking on her door stole her attention from the books and Morgan threw a blanket over her underwear covered behind just as Claire slipped in the room.

"Are you okay?" her friend asked sympathetically.

"Yeah," Morgan shrugged, "sore."

"He's such a-"

"Claire," she said firmly, carefully moving to a sitting position, "I screwed up, it's over, please just drop it."

"Whatever," the blonde tossed her hair, "Are you comin' out or y'gotta stay in here?"

"Yeah, I'll come out," Morgan nodded, sliding off her bed tenderly and grabbing her sweatpants from the top of her dresser, mindful to keep her bottom turned away from her friend as she slipped them on, "Hey, uh, I gotta tell y'somethin', or, uh, did Sam 'r Dean tell you already?"

"They haven't told me shit," Claire tossed her hands up in frustration, "What happened?"

"A lot," Morgan scoffed lightly, "but, uh, so this witch who wanted t'meet me, well, uh, she wanted t'do more than meet me."

"Okay, Yoda, get to the point," her friend crossed her arms and leaned to one side in boredom.

Morgan smirked and snapped two fingers together, a purple ember igniting between them, the flame growing as she opened her hand. Claire's eyes widened and her jaw fell slack, choking on a breath.

"What? How? Morgan, this is amazing!" she exclaimed, jumping a little in excitement.

Morgan excitedly recanted their trip to the Waldorf Astoria, including the saleswoman who though Sam and Dean were her dads, which Claire found immensely amusing. She insisted on seeing the bok Gungnir and Odin's own spell and symbol made of his blood, tracing the red markings with her finger, absolutely mesmerized.

"So she just died, like right after?" Claire finally broke her trance and looked at her friend.

Morgan nodded sadly, "Crowley said something about her magic being the only thing keeping her alive that long."

"You saw Crowley again?" Claire inclined her head.

"Yeah," Morgan scoffed, "he dropped in after, well, a lot happened, I'll let Sam 'n Dean tell you the rest, it's, uh, well they know more about what happened anyway."

"A'right, can we go out there 'n get them talkin' then?" Claire handed the bok Gungnir back to Morgan after closing it carefully.

"Yeah, uh," she glanced warily at Claire, "Do I look like I've been bawlin'?"

"Naw, y'r'good," her friend assured her with a small grin.

They walked together into the library, Sam and Bryan were standing at a table, bent over a large map, both turned as the girls trudged up the stairs.

"Hey," Bryan grinned at Morgan, but the flicker of his gaze and subdued tone told her he knew why she was walking stiffly and felt heat rise to her cheeks.

"Hey, kiddo," Sam's small smile was encouraging.

"I was just tellin' y'r'brother about what Claire 'n I've been doin'," Bryan gestured to the map on the table.

Sam gave a conceding smirk and head nod, "It's good work."

Morgan smiled at the proud look on Bryan's face, noticing Claire looked equally gratified by Sam's assessment. Dean's heavy footsteps echoed in the large space just moments before he emerged from the hallway, jogging up the stairs to join them.

"A'right," the oldest Winchester landed hard on the floor of the library, "What're Nancy Drew 'n Encyclopedia Brown so excited about?"

"Might be surprised," Sam mumbled, moving from the table so Dean could approach the map.

"So, they hit the West coast first," Bryan moved his finger along part of the map, "all the way to the mountains, right?" Dean gave a short nod and the young man continued, "Then they flushed the East coast, all of Florida, but now they've gone North again and have started moving South through the Mid-West from the information you've gotten lately," Dean gave Claire a quick sideways glare before returning his attention to Bryan's explanation, "They're sweeping the edges first so it's harder to run and I'd bet my life their meeting point is gonna be near New Orleans."

"How d'ya figure that?" Dean challenged.

"Because the Alpha Vampire lives there," the young man said simply.

"What?" Dean scoffed harshly, "How'd'ya know that? Better yet, explain how Sam 'n I met him in North Dakota a few years ago."

"I'm sure he's got a few places all over," Bryan reasoned, "but he prefers New Orleans, 'n I know 'cause my Granpa told me."

It was quiet for a moment after his proclamation, Dean looked to his brother who shrugged with a smirk.

"The pattern makes sense," Sam told him.

"Okay," Dean shook his head, "but if Daniel had the colt, why didn't he just kill the Alpha?"

"They tried," Bryan's tone was hard and low, "it was the last hunt my Dad 'n him ever went on together, I don't know exactly what happened, he didn't tell me much, I was really young, but it wasn't successful, one'a my Dad's buddy died 'n he never spoke to my Granpa again. But before they left, my Granpa told me about the Alpha, said he couldn't resist the sin of New Orleans 'n always found his way back there, 'n he showed me the Colt, been in my family since eighteen-sixty-one, nearly killed my Dad when he found out Granpa died 'n couldn't find it, figured the vamps who got him stole it."

"They did," Dean nodded, reaching inside his jacket and pulling out the antique pistol, "changed a few hands since then though."

Bryan's eyes could not have gotten larger as he stared in awe at the gun in Dean's hand, his face paled and he leaned against the table when his knees were too weak to support his weight.

"How did you?" was all the young man could manage to force passed his lips.

"Had help," Dean's comment made Morgan's freshly punished backside throb again.

"Can I?" Bryan pointed a nervous finger at the pistol and Dean instinctually held it closer a moment, but with a conceding look at the young man he set it in his hands, the corner of his mouth tugging up a bit at Bryan's amazed look as he carefully examined the Colt, a barely audible whisper escaped his lips, "Hey, beautiful."

"Hey, Bryan," Sam dragged the young man's attention from the pistol and nodded at his shirt, "y'r'bleedin' again, man."

"Yeah," he glanced down at the spot of blood growing on the side of his t-shirt and grudgingly handed Dean the Colt back, "this one's bein' a bitch, won't stay stitched."

"You not restin' couldn't have anything t'do with that," Dean remarked, slipping the gun in his jacket again.

"I'm fine," Bryan shrugged and smirked at Claire, "Last time? I swear."

"Yeah," Claire jerked her head towards the stairs, but stopped after her first step and turned to Morgan, "Wait, why don't you just do it?"

Morgan had widened her eyes at her friend, silently urging her to shut up, but it was too late and Claire had already made the suggestion, Bryan's confused expression was alone in the room.

"Do what?" he asked, looking at Morgan.

"Crap," Claire muttered and grimaced at the young witch, "he doesn't know."

"He didn't," she agreed quietly and took a deep breath, setting her eyes on the handsome young man staring at her with a furrowed brow.

"Didn't know what?" Bryan asked again.

"I'm a witch," Morgan admitted, feeling the weight lift from her chest, but braced herself for the response.

"You were a witch," his eyes narrowed, still trying to understand.

"I got my powers back," her hands were shaking a bit at her sides, but forced the words out, "or new ones, either way."

It was silent for several moments as Bryan's expression went from confusion to surprise and finally found a neutral position before he nodded, "Okay."

"Okay?" the Winchesters asked together with a tone of anticipation.

"Okay, can y'help me out here then?" he grinned a little at Morgan, his smile widened when she brightened at his words.

"Happy to," her cheeks hurt from the huge smile that wouldn't waiver in her elation, glancing at her brothers, she was met with two approving head nods.

"Have a seat kid," Sam gestured to the arm chair and gave Morgan an encouraging wink.

Bryan slowly lifted his shirt, showing a firm torso riddled in stitched gashes, the longest on his side was trickling blood from the middle, scoffing at the damage with dark humor, "Might be easier if I don't."

"Need anything, Morgan?" Dean asked.

"Naw, I know it," she assured him, having performed the spell several times on Castiel the day before.

"Have at it," Bryan gave her a nervous grin, slipping his shirt off his head, Morgan heard Dean make a strange sound in the back of his throat, but turned her attention to the bleeding cut running down the young man's ribs.

She tried to give him a reassuring smile, stepping closer and placing her hand so close to the cut she could feel the heat of his skin, then closed her eyes and let the words fall out like a familiar song she'd finally gotten to hear again, "Suo in cute sana ex vulnere."

Bryan's face briefly scrunched in the anticipation of pain, but relaxed and he looked down as she moved her hand from the unblemished skin, running his fingers over the area that had just been mangled in blood and amateur stitches.

"Holy," he exclaimed in shock, still rubbing his side, "that's, that's incredible! Any chance, you could, uh," she nodded happily, extending her hand to the next stitched cut and repeating the process until his chest and stomach were as flawless as they always had been, a few times she let her fingers linger on his warm skin when Sam and Dean were distracted in conversation.

"Good as new," Claire punched Bryan gently in the arm.

"Thanks," he stared at Morgan and she wanted nothing more in that moment than for him to kiss her, unfortunately her brothers were still part of the audience.

"Great," Dean scoffed lightly, "Go put a shirt on Hercules."

Bryan chuckled and nodded at him, descending the stairs at a near jog, clearly pain free as he made his way out of the room. Morgan watched his back muscles as he rolled his shoulders and sighed, feeling a jab in her side, however she jerked her head at Claire, seeing both brothers staring at her, Sam with a little amusement, Dean with absolutely none.

"So, uh, big break in the vampire case, huh?" she turned to her friend for help in the awkward moment.

"Oh, no," Claire shook her head adamantly, "it's y'r'guy's turn t'talk. Where was Castiel? How'd you get him back from these super demons? What the hell is this gun Bryan nearly just had a heart-attack over? Just, just, what happened?"

"Well I'm gonna need a drink," Dean chuckled.

"Me too," Sam agreed, turning towards the stairs, but stopping and smirking at his sister before taking the two cold beers from mid-air, the caps popping off with a soft hiss and deposited themselves in the trash bin, "Okay, I may've missed that a little."

Dean flipped a chair around, straddling it as he began telling Claire about their trip to Chicago. The blonde patiently listened as he began with Sophie at the Waldorf, but Morgan saw her sit straighter when he got to the warehouse. She too, listened with intent as he described going around the back after determining the Princes were fighting each other closer to the front of the building. The plan was to sneak Castiel out, if they could, which is why Sam had hung back, in case they needed a sneak attack, which was unfortunately foiled by Ramiel finding the tallest Winchester behind the support beam and dragging him into the standstill.

"Turns out we had a real surprise, though," Dean turned to Morgan with a smirk, "Flew the gun from that douchebag's hand while he's tryin' t'channel Jesse James, didn't even see it comin' 'n bam! Right between the eyes."

"No way!" Claire exclaimed to the young witch, "Morgan, that's incredible!"

"Sure sound proud'a me f'r'a guy who just busted my ass f'r'that little move," she scoffed lightly.

"Oh, you know why you got y'r'ass busted," Dean shook his head with a laugh, pointing his beer at Claire, "Don't start, y'don't know."

"Wasn't plannin' on it," the blonde scoffed, "I don't need y'bustin' my ass."

"Look at you learnin'," Dean smiled and sipped his beer as Claire rolled her eyes at him, but couldn't help a small grin.

"So you killed Ramiel," Claire confirmed, bringing the conversation back to the point, "Asmodeous took off? Do we think he's gonna rejoin Dagon?"

"Shockingly," Sam began, "that's not our biggest concern, Dagon's already got plenty'a help."

"What'd'ya mean?" Claire looked at Sam and then Dean and finally Morgan.

"Have you ever heard of Ragnarok?" Dean asked.

"The Norse Mythology apocalypse?" she inclined her head as the brother's nodded, Morgan was surprised Claire was immediately familiar, but remembered her friend had immersed herself in lore, mythology and hunting for the last few years.

"There are a few groups of werewolves that worship Fenris," Dean explained, "the wolf-god thing-"

"Not a god, but go on," Claire nodded.

"Whatever, he was," Dean waved his beer with disinterest, "these werewolves call themselves the Maw of Fenris, 'n their whole goal is human annihilation, a world full'a monsters, purgatory on earth."

"Werewolves are more concerning than a Prince of Hell?" Claire shook her head at them, "How?"

"Because they're organized," Dean narrowed his eyes, "Their leader, Phelan, says he's a descendant of Fenris, from the secondhand threats we've bein' hearin' he's made, one of the final steps to initiating Ragnarok is Fenris devouring the god Odin."

"Okay," Claire was sitting on the edge of her chair, "but I'm guessing they're already dead."

"Odin is," Sam confirmed and Morgan inclined her head at him, "Lucifer."

"Of course," she rolled her eyes.

"So, who's this Phelan punk plannin' on eatin' then?" Claire asked and followed Sam and Dean's gazes to her friend leaning against the table next to her, "Oh, shit."

"Yeah," the Winchesters agreed together.

Dean's ringing phone broke the silence that followed and he jumped from his seat to pull the device from his pocket, swiping the screen before he held it to his ear, "Hey, Garth. – Huh, yeah I guess it is. – Maybe, I don't know, wasn't around during construction. Are y'on y'r'way 'r what? – Okaaay? What'd'ya – Garth, that's great man! I didn't know that! – Yeah, we've all been a little busy. So y'r'all comin'? – No, no, that's fine, I understand, no worries. – We'll see ya."

"What's goin' on with Garth?" Sam asked when Dean shoved his phone back in his pocket.

"Bess's cousins are definitely involved with Phelan," Dean confirmed, "they're using the join or die recruiting plan to gain followers, Garth, Bess 'n Channing are on their way here."

"Channing?" Sam inclined his head.

"Their son," Dean's grin looked a little proud, "just turned two Garth said."

"Wow," Sam's eyebrows raised in surprise.

"Yeah," Dean nodded.

"Who's Garth?" Claire interjected.

"He's an old hunting buddy," Sam told her, "got turned by a wolf a few years ago, but he manages, truthfully, if anybody could it's Garth."

"Right?" Dean scoffed lightly, "Zen Master Marmaduke."

"A werewolf is coming here?" Claire stared at both brothers.

"And his werewolf wife 'n I'm assuming the kid may've picked up the trait," Dean's tone was full of amusement at Claire's shocked expression.

"Seriously, guys?" she urged, glancing at Morgan, who simply shrugged.

"Actually, we should prob'ly warn you about one thing," Sam smirked at Dean and they both chuckled.

"What?" Claire sounded nervous.

"He's a hugger," Dean grinned.

\---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Morgan left Claire, Bryan and Sam alone in the library a while later, making her way to the bathroom a little slowly, her bottom still pulsing with dull pain. Dean had abandoned the group about half an hour earlier to make them a late dinner, but when she passed the kitchen he wasn't there, nor did any food seem to be being prepared. His bedroom door was shut and, just before her knuckles hit the wood, a soft, but very distinctive moan reached her ears.

"Holyyy shhhhhhhit," yep, that was definitely the woman who, until recently, had been her chemistry teacher, "Mmmmmm," followed by what sounded like a happy yelp, "Yesssss."

Morgan had retracted her fist the moment she heard the first pleasurable groan, her eyes wide at the Men of Letters symbol on his door, wanting to rush down the hallway, but her feet were stuck to the floor.

"Oh, you liked that, huh?" her brother's deep voice broke her trance and Jenny's squealing giggle faded as Morgan silently bolted down the hall to the library.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you enjoyed that last bit as much as I did writing it ;)


	32. Chapter 32

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Welcome to the bunker Garth! Love that goofy lycanthrope =)

"Thought you had t'pee?" Claire leaned back in her chair as Morgan reentered the library, her face beet red.

"I did, I mean I do," she stammered, "just, nothing, I'm fine, I did."

"You were gone five seconds," the blonde scoffed, but returned her focus to the work in front of them at Morgan's wide eyes.

"Y'okay, Sweetie?" Sam asked, looking up from his laptop.

"Yeah, fine," she answered quickly, sitting carefully in the armchair she'd been occupying and crossing her legs, taking a quiet deep breath.

He lowered his gaze on his sister and, despite trying to hide behind a large volume of Norse Mythology, she flicked her eyes up at him, furrowing her face into a strange grimace. Sam's eyebrows raised, his lips pulled taut into a thin line as he shook his head, Morgan knew he understood and somehow that made her feel better.

"Okay," Sam returned his attention to the group, "What'd we know so far?"

"Well," Bryan sat back in his chair, "we know there's groups of vampires hunting hunters and the way they're moving, we can gather the survivors at the safe houses inside the danger zone, not t'mention the ones we need t'find still, 'n get 'em somewhere safer."

"A'right," Sam nodded at Bryan while Claire smiled a little proudly, Morgan set the text down as her brother continued, "As far as the werewolves go, we don't have much. We've only met one small group of the Maw and we took 'em all out, so we're prob'ly not their favorite people anyway, not t'mention," Sam paused for a second and Morgan waved at them with a tightlipped grin, "Yeah."

"I still don't understand this entirely," Bryan shook his head at Morgan, "You're a descendant of Odin?" swinging his gaze to Sam, "A god, who you're saying was killed at a dinner party by the Devil?" looking again at Morgan with wide eyes, "Who's crazy daughter is now helping the great-great-grandson of a monster wolf who wants to eat you to start a mythological apocalypse?"

"I'm sure there's more great's between them," she shrugged, "but yeah, that's the gist of it."

"This is insane," Bryan scoffed.

"Oh, just wait, buddy," Claire clapped him on the back and laughed, she started laughing harder as a robed Castiel walked in the room, but the blonde quickly got off her chair and met him at the bottom of the stairs.

Bryan stood with Sam, and Morgan did simply because, for the few moments it was social acceptable in the situation, she could enjoy the pressure off her sore behind.

Claire stopped in front of him, "Are you? Can I?"

"Please," Castiel smiled and Claire wrapped her arms around him gently as his enveloped her.

Morgan felt her throat tighten a little and swallowed, there was something about the very strange, very honest and very real relationship her friend had with the angel inside her father's old body. Sam stepped forward to help, but Castiel shook his head at the silent offer for assistance, keeping one hand on the railing and the other around Claire's shoulders, though he didn't seem to need much more support than the railing.

"You look better," Sam smiled.

"Thanks to your sister," he nodded at Morgan who was grinning anyway, Castiel in a bathrobe was certainly an interesting sight.

"I'm Bryan," the young man extended his hand.

"Yeah, sorry," Sam grimaced apologetically, "this is, uh-"

"The last Elkins," Castiel said matter-of-factly as he took Bryan's hand, holding it still.

Morgan forced a smile as the handsome young man stared at her with terror for a brief moment before Castiel let go and Bryan almost fell back like he'd finally been able to lurch his grasp from the man's grip.

"Who are you?" he asked, "Are you, human?"

"Dude," Claire scoffed, "I told you Castiel is an angel."

"I thought you meant like he's a good guy!" Bryan exclaimed.

"Does that sound like something I'd say?!" Claire challenged.

"No! It does not!" he yelled back, apparently realizing he was still yelling and lowering his voice, "What do you mean angel?"

"I am Castiel, an angel of the Lord," Morgan had to stifle a giggle because it was very hard to take him seriously when he said that in a bathrobe.

"Like capital gee God?" Bryan stared at Castiel, his jaw dropping a little when the angel nodded, "Holy shit."

"Yeah," Sam scoffed, "he has that effect the first time around," turning to the man in the robe, "Cas, I threw y'r'clothes in the washer, but I'm sure we've got somethin' that'll work, f'r'now."

"This is quite comfortable," the angle smoothed his hands down the soft material.

"Yeah, but, okay," Sam conceded with a small smirk.

"Hey, I'm starvin'," Claire's sudden comment made Morgan's stomach lurch.

"Dean said he's cookin' somethin' up," Bryan reminded her and Morgan and Sam met each other with the same amused stare.

"No, Dean is, uh, busy," Castiel stammered a little at the end of his statement and Morgan realized that he too had walked by her brother's room recently.

"Oh, I thought-" Claire's shoulders slumped, but brightened at the hallway entrance.

"It's not Chicago, but it's hot 'n covered in cheese," Dean waltzed up the library steps in bare feet, jeans and an untucked t-shirt, his hair a bit disheveled, and a slightly goofy grin seemed stuck on his face, but he carried a steaming pizza in each hand and set them on the free table next to the one they were working around, "Hey, Cas, y'r'lookin' good."

"Much better, thank you," the angel nodded.

"Hey, uh, Dean," Sam's tone was taunting, "is Jenny gonna join us?"

The quick flicker in their oldest brother's eyes betrayed the button Sam had just pushed and the younger smirked, folding his arms in a posture that begged Dean to retaliate.

"I don'know," Dean shrugged harder than he usually did, "I can throw another one in if we need, takes fifteen minutes."

"I bet it does," Sam retorted, finally earning a hard scowl from his brother.

"Well, I don't eat," Castiel reminded them.

"I do," Claire shrugged, grabbing a slice and dropping it instantly, shaking her fingers before putting them in her mouth to cool.

"I just said it was hot," Dean chided.

"Yeah, well, I'm learnin'," Claire smirked at him and he gave her a proud smile.

"I'm takin' Jenny home," Dean told Sam.

"She's stayin' around here?" Sam's teasing had vanished as he asked with surprise.

"Hell no," Dean shook his head, "Said she finally has an excuse t'take this job she's been offered in Hawaii."

"Yeah, I would," Sam scoffed lightly, "Good f'r'her. She set up 'til then?"

"Yeah," Dean nodded, "got a sister she's gonna go stay with f'r'a few days."

A pain in her bladder reminded her that the path to the bathroom was hopefully safe now and, quickly, Morgan ran down the stairs down the hallway and rushed into the bathroom at the end.

She whimpered a little, hitting the seat hard when she forgot the pain her bottom for the one in her gut, though the latter released quickly, whereas the former throbbed harder still after gently pushing herself off the toilet. As she walked around the wall to the line of sinks, Morgan stopped in her tracks when Jenny's eyes met hers in the mirror.

"Hi," the pretty woman smiled, running a brush through her blonde hair.

"Hi," Morgan muttered, averting her eyes as she washed her hands.

"So," Jenny tried, "it was a good trip?" Morgan offered a small nod, "You're from Chicago, right?" again, Morgan only managed a small nod, feeling heat creep to her cheeks, "Did you see anyone you knew?"

"Uh, no," Morgan forced a verbal answer, glancing at the woman as she patted her hands on her sweatpants, "just a quick in 'n out," grimacing at her words as Jenny smirked and blushed a little, "Uh, Dean made pizza, so, uh, we're in the library," she stepped backwards towards the hallway as she spoke and hurried down the corridor as soon as she turned the corner.

\-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Jenny's good-bye was slightly awkward as Morgan had a hard time looking her in the eyes as she bid farewell to the woman, Bryan, however, returned the hug his former teacher offered, promising her he would be safe. She left with Dean towards the garage as the rest of them stayed in the library, huddled over the same information they'd been devouring for hours.

With a loud yawn, Sam glanced at his watch and shook his head, "A'right, kids, lets hit the racks, it's four AM."

None of them argued, nodding in exhaustion and pushing out of their seats. Sam descended the stairs with Claire right behind him, Castiel had retired hours earlier.

Morgan moved to follow her friend, but felt a gentle tug on her hand. Bryan smiled down at her and she realized they were finally alone, which he clearly understood moments earlier as his lips came down on hers, pulling her close by the small of her back. Her hand found his firm bicep as the other moved up his neck through his short brown hair, returning his kiss with long awaited passion.

"Morgan!" Sam's call echoed in the open room, forcing both teenagers to take a step back from each other, but sighed seeing they were still alone.

"Yeah, coming!" she yelled back, glancing again at the hallway before lifting on her tiptoes, giving the handsome young man a quick peck on the lips and hurrying down the steps.

Her brother was just outside their rooms, his arms folded, trying to hold a stern face, but Morgan saw a glimmer of amusement in his eyes. He jerked his head at her room and opened his arms as she got closer.

"Good night, Brat," he chuckled, pulling her into a hug.

"G'night, Sam," she smiled, "Love you."

"Love you, too," he patted her behind lightly as she walked into her bedroom and waited for the door to shut, Morgan heard his low tone when it did, "Night, Bryan."

"Night, Sam," the young man mumbled and his steps moved quickly down the hallway before she heard the sound of Sam's door close.

\---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Morgan opened her eyes, hearing laughter outside her room, and glanced at her phone, 12:24pm. Stretching her arms over her head she tried to remember what day it was, maybe Monday, she certainly wouldn't be in Mr. Kirk's class in an hour.

After throwing her hair into a ponytail and dressing in her usual t-shirt, jeans and boots, Morgan left her room and followed the voices to the kitchen.

Sam and Dean were at the table sipping coffee with a thin man and woman, a little boy sitting in her lap, they turned when her brothers looked up at her entrance. The man had a large nose, big ears and a kind smile, he glanced at Dean then back at Morgan and giggled.

"Yeah, she's your sister alright," the man stood, though it seemed painful, he was almost Dean's height but of much slighter build, his brown hair was combed into a well-maintained side part and the honest smile he greeted her with didn't falter, "Morgan? I'm Garth, an old friend'a y'r'brothers."

"Hi," she shook the hand he offered, it felt as human as every other hand she'd ever shaken.

"This is Bess, my beautiful wife," Garth's eyes fell on the short-haired blonde woman holding the little boy and Morgan watched love glaze his eyes for a few moments, "and our son, Channing."

"Hi," the tiny boy squeaked, waving a small hand before whacking it down on his mother's shoulder and burying his head in her chest, sneaking a glance at Morgan and closing his eyes tightly when she smiled at him.

"It's nice to meet you," Bess extended her hand, wrapping her other around Channing and shaking her head a little at him, "He likes to pretend he's shy."

"He's cute," Morgan told her and the little boy popped his head up again with a goofy grin before hiding again in his mother's sweater.

"Garth 'n Bess just got in a little while ago," Dean told her, "You hungry?"

"Starving," she nodded and he scooted around the table to the refrigerator.

"So," Garth bounced on his heels a little as he grinned at Morgan, "I heard you're a witch."

His face was so transparently genuine she grinned back with a quick raise of her eyebrows, "Y'heard right. An' y'r'all werewolves?"

"Morgan," Dean grimaced, dropping a pack of bacon on the counter, but Garth held up a hand.

"It's alright Dean," he assured him, his kind smile never wavering as he looked back at the young witch, "Yes, Morgan, we are, though we prefer the term lycanthrope."

"I'm sorry," she stammered.

"No apologies necessary," Garth shook his head, "I kinda sprang it on you first," his chuckle was so near a giggle it made Morgan follow suit, his energy was a little contagious.

"And you can scry?" Bess asked, her eyes looked pleading.

"Yes, of course," Morgan nodded, "People I've met, or if I have something connected to someone."

"Can you use a claw same as hair?" Sam inclined his head at her.

"Gross, but yeah," she scoffed.

"Well, that's what we've got," Garth shrugged and Bess's head drooped.

"It'll work, that's fine," Morgan promised quickly, "who's, uh, who're we lookin' for?"

"The claw belongs to a distant cousin'a Bess's," Garth explained, "After Dean called 'n told me what he knew we started realizin' that's why some'a her family had been tryin' t'get back in her good graces, I think they thought they could convert her 'n her father with a little family bonding time. So when I heard from Dean, Bess 'n I took Channing and ran, but, uh-"

"My father wouldn't come with," Bess's voice sounded broken, "he wouldn't leave the pack, he said he had to be there to make them see reason when the Maw came. I couldn't, just-"

"I went back," Garth continued, grinning encouragingly at his wife, though his eyes were sad, "hoped I could get him t'come with me, but, the Maw had already been there," he paused for a moment, "They'd killed him. And while I was tryin' t'take him out of the house, her cousins, Randal and Lowell, jumped me. Must've been waitin', hopin' we'd come back f'r'Reverend Jim."

"Reverend?" Morgan couldn't hide her surprise.

"He was the leader of our pack," Bess nearly whispered.

"He was a great man," Dean said and Bess gave him a sad smile.

"He will be missed," Garth agreed solemnly after a few moments of silence, "but we gave him a proper funeral."

"You took both of 'em?" Morgan asked.

"I am a hunter," he smiled, "When I ganked Lowell, Randal ran, but not before rippin' his claw off in my leg," Garth nodded at the leg he was leaning away from.

"Why isn't that healed?" Sam asked.

"It will," Garth shrugged boney shoulders, "Attacks from fellow lycanthropes tend to take a little longer."

Bryan and Claire appeared in the doorway together, stopping to assess the scene before entering.

"Hungry?" Dean asked in a low tone, mostly looking at Claire, but they both nodded.

"Is this the rest'a the Winchester hunting academy?" Garth asked, Sam offered a half smile a shrug, Dean was extremely focused on the bacon that had barely begun to sizzle.

"Claire Novak and Bryan Elkins," Sam stood, clapping a hand on Garth shoulder, "this is Garth Fitzgerald the fourth, his wife Bess and Channing."

Channing was wriggling to get off his mother's lap and Bess set him on his feet, shaking her head a little, but taking advantage of the freedom by sipping her coffee.

"Elkins?" Garth furrowed his brow in thought.

"Daniel," Sam began and Garth instantly nodded, his face of happy surprise, "was his grandfather."

Channing was tottering a little as he slowly walked passed his father's legs towards the doorway and stopped with a huge smile at the young adults who seemed very unsure why the toddler had approached them.

"m'a woof, raaawr," though Channing's squeaky voice and giggle as he growled were about as far from terrifying as possible, Claire and Bryan's eye's widened in fear.

"Channing," Garth stepped forward, wincing as he knelt and pulled his son to look at him, "we talked about that, right?" the little boy looked down, offering no response, "That's not nice, right?" again, no response, "You don't wanna scare people, right?" the toddler finally offered a hard shrug, "It's not nice t'scare people, and y'r'a nice boy, right?" Channing nodded at the ground, "Alright, so let's not do that anymore, okay?"

"Okay," Channing's whisper was barely audible.

"I'm sorry about that, one'a the kids in the pack taught him that," Garth's face was pained as he pushed to his feet, "I never met your grandfather, heard a lotta stories though, hoo-boy if even half of 'em are true, well, he sounded like an incredible hunter."

"He was," Bryan nodded, taking a step into the kitchen and Claire followed his lead, "I, uh, understand you were a hunter 'n got bit."

"I like t'think I'm still a hunter," Garth smiled, "and I have a much better sense of smell now."

"Y'r'gonna help us take these other werewolves down?" Bryan asked.

"Lycanthropes," the Winchesters corrected together.

"Yes," Garth nodded, looking at Morgan, "hopefully soon we'll get a sneak peek."

"I'll get my crystals," she grinned, moving towards the hallway.

"Eat first," Dean ordered without even turning from the stove.

"I will," Morgan rolled her eyes and continued towards the doorway, at least she'd be ready immediately following breakfast at noon, but a weight on one leg stopped her again from leaving the kitchen.

"Hi," Channing looked up with a huge smile from his position wrapped around Morgan's calf.

"Hi," she stifled a giggle.

"Trick!" the little boy demanded and Morgan looked at Garth to translate.

"He wants you t'do a trick," Garth chuckled, "Channing buddy, Daddy does tricks, want me t'juggle?"

Channing shook his head and looked back up at Morgan.

"Okay, you wanna see a trick?" she asked and he nodded eagerly, "I'm gonna need my leg back," he hopped off instantly and Morgan knelt to his level, cupping her hands together.

Channing's eyes went wide as an ember grew in her hands, watching with awe as it formed a tiny girl and she danced around the young witch's flattening palms. The fire dancer leapt and spun, until the little boy's chubby fingers started reaching towards the purple flame and Morgan closed her hands quickly.

"You don't wanna touch," she shook her head, speaking sweetly, "I know it's pretty, but it's hot."

Morgan was not prepared for the break in his tiny expression and the wailing that followed, whipping her head at Bess who rolled her eyes, waving her hand at Morgan in a gesture that assured her this not her fault. She stood and picked up her crying son, trying to get him to calm down, but when he didn't, she grabbed the soft cooler from the floor, slinging the strap over her shoulder.

"He's just hungry," Bess shrugged, "Is there a room I can steal?"

"Yeah, I'll show you," Sam grabbed the other duffel bags and Bess followed him from the kitchen.

"Thanks, Sam," Garth waved as they left.

"I see you guys brought y'r'own lunch," Dean looked at Garth as he pulled strips of bacon from the pan.

"Didn't think you'd have a supply'a beef hearts handy," Garth told him, "Actually, could, uh, it's been a while since Bess 'n I've been able t'go hunt together, y'know, with Channing 'n all. Could I bother y'all t'watch him for just a little while tonight so we can hit the forest."

"Yeah," Dean nodded, "of course, Sam's great with kids."

Sam scoffed as he reentered the kitchen, "That would be you baby whisperer."

Dean smirked and shrugged in silent agreement.


	33. Chapter 33

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It's too early for you box

Castiel had joined them in the library, he was no longer moving with pain, and Garth was extremely excited to meet an angel, even Castiel seemed to find his enthusiasm awkward. Morgan set her crystals on the table meticulously, impatiently waiting for Bess to finish putting Channing down for a nap so she could begin the scry session. Bryan watched with intrigue as she adjusted the gems fractions of inches.

"So, what are you doing?" he asked.

"I'm gonna scry this were-lycanthrope," she told him, "it's a spell that lets me see someone, like a fly on the wall."

"Cool," he nodded, "and also terrifying."

"I'd never spy on you," Morgan smirked.

"I'm sorry t'hear that," Bryan's eyebrows jumped and she giggled.

"Morgan," Dean's near bark made her jump as she looked at her brother, he was scowling and Bryan took a step back, "Did you hear Garth?"

"No, sorry," she shook her head, "What?"

"I was just askin' if you have everything y'need," the kind man smiled at her, but scowled a little at Dean.

"Yes, thank you," she nodded, "Do you have the claw?"

"Right here," Garth reached into the breast pocket of his flannel and pulled out a long black werewolf claw, setting it on the table near her crystals.

"He's down," Bess sighed walking into the open room.

"Put up a fight?" Garth smirked, chuckling at the glare his wife gave him as she walked up the stairs, "He's excited, new place, new people."

"He bit me," she informed him dryly.

"He really doesn't like naps lately," Garth shrugged.

"Sounds like Channing needs a tanning," Dean mumbled and Bess threw an arm out, pointing at the oldest Winchester.

"There are plenty of ways to discipline that don't involve spanking," Garth's gaze started at Dean and ended on his wife, "I talk t'him, make him understand-"

"He's two Garth," Bess reminded him, "you can't always reason with him, you know that. I want t'be on the same page as you, but I'm one more tantrum from swattin' him."

"Bess, can we talk about this later?" Garth's eyebrows raised in a pleading fashion.

"Y'got back up, Bess," Dean grinned at her, "this is a pro ass bustin' household."

Morgan felt heat creep to her face as her sore behind throbbed, keeping her eyes averted from her brother and Bryan.

"I will say, spanking is one of the few things that has never changed from the moment your kind created offspring," Castiel's matter-of-fact tone made Morgan blush further.

"Well, it will in this family," Garth nodded curtly.

"Good luck with that," Dean muttered, but put his hands up defensively when Garth sighed at him.

"Morgan, we ready t'go?" Sam asked and she smiled at him in appreciation of ending the awkward conversation.

"Yeah, I'm all set."

"We'll get the lights," Sam and Dean started flipping the switches around the library until they were in near darkness.

Morgan carefully sat in front of her crystals and picked up the claw between two fingers, trying not to let disgust show in her expression.

"Randal?" she confirmed.

"Randal Mezzanotte," Bess's tone was hard and bitter.

Morgan pressed the claw between her palms, focusing on her crystals and let the familiar incantation fall from her lips effortlessly, feeling the air around her warming as her vision blurred.

Wind whooshed in her ears as the inside of the car became clear, a burly man with sandy blonde hair was driving and had his arm out the window, the other on the steering wheel had a bandage around one finger. The man riding shotgun, shorter and huskier than the driver, kept hitting the scan button on the radio.

"Just stop!" the driver yelled, punching the off button with his bandaged finger and howled in agony.

"Y'did that to yourself," his passenger muttered.

"Shut up! Damn it Luke shut up!" the driver barked, "We got fourteen more hours stuck in this car together before we get there, just pick a station and shut up!"

"Sorry, Randal," Luke mumbled, "All they got out here is country."

"We're in South Dakota," Randal scoffed meanly, "What'd'ja expect?"

"Why did Phelan hafta set up shop in the middle'a nowhere?" Luke sighed.

"It's all part of the plan," Randal nodded.

"You say that like you've talked t'him," Luke chuckled, "Have y'even met him yet?"

Randal turned his head slowly and growled at the other man, Luke put his hands up defensively and dipped his head submissively.

"You wanna ride in the trunk the rest'a the way t'Montana?" Randal's threat garnered a quick head shake from Luke, "Shut'cher trap."

Morgan had heard enough and let go, feeling the cool rush pulling her from the car back to the safety of the library, blinking at her crystals in the dark. The lights turned on as she lifted her head at the pairs of eyes staring at her from every direction.

"They're in South Dakota," she looked at her brothers and then Claire with wide eyes.

"Jody," Claire whispered, but Dean already had his phone to his ear.

"Hey, Jody," he sighed after a few moments of silent anticipation, "Yeah, well you know us, always something. But, uh, I was callin' t'make sure everything's alright by you. – Okay, good. – No, just wonderin'. – Yeah, okay, y'r'right, but I can't get into it now. I'll give you a call a little later. – I will, I promise. – A'right Jody, talk soon," he slipped his phone back in his pocket, "Jody 'n Alex are fine," Claire and Sam sighed at Dean's news, "So, what'd'ja see?"

"They're headed t'Montana," Morgan told them, "he's with some guy named Luke," she looked questioningly at Garth and Bess, both responded with shrugs and shaking heads, "He doesn't seem t'like him much, but I think they're headed to Phelan, least that's what it sounded like."

"How long from South Dakota t'Montana?" Sam asked Dean who began shifting his head back a forth with a thoughtful smirk.

"Fourteen hours," Morgan answered and both brothers inclined their heads identically at her and she shrugged, "That's what Randal said."

"Think you'd be up f'r'another session?" Dean gestured at her crystals.

"Way ahead'a you," she grinned.

With a pending appointment to scry Randal again at 3am, the group tried to return to the research they'd already poured over, but after less than an hour, no one was interested in continuing to look at what they already knew.

"I should really refill our supplies," Dean ran a tired hand through his short hair, "we're low on rock salt shots."

"I can do it," Bryan told him, continuing at the look of disbelief Dean gave him, "I used t'make 'em f'r'my Dad all the time."

"A'right, yeah," Dean yawned, "I could really use a couple hours."

"What were you doin' last night?" Garth asked, "I was surprised when we ended up followin' y'here the last few miles this mornin'."

Color rose in Dean's cheeks, "I was, uh, takin' home one'a the victims we'd helped from a vampire attack."

"That far of a drive, huh?" Sam smirked.

"Shut up," Dean growled and descended the stairs as his siblings shared a quiet laugh, "Bryan! Let's go, y'makin' these 'r what?"

Morgan rolled her eyes at Bryan, Dean always took his frustrations out on others, but the young man shrugged indifferently as he hurried after Dean. Bryan was almost as tall as the oldest Winchester and while he wasn't as muscular, his shoulders and build were nearly as broad. As the two disappeared down the hallway, both in boots, jeans and flannel shirts, Morgan couldn't help realizing that from the back, the handsome young man resembled her brother. She shook her head from the thought, thinking of Bryan's very individual, deep brown eyes, nothing like the emeralds in her and her brother's eyes.

"Hey," Claire got Morgan's attention from her daze, "Wanna go t'the gun range 'n fly stuff around so I can shoot it?"

"Yeah!" Morgan scoffed happily.

"Uh," Sam's unsure sound made both girls turn, waiting for him to put a damper on their plan, "Am I invited t'this party?"

"Let's go, bro," Morgan smiled.

"I'm going t'check on Channing," Bess descended the stairs with Claire, Morgan and Sam, leaving Castiel alone with Garth, who immediately began peppering him again with questions.

\------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

After sunset, Bryan and Claire were just finishing the stack of rounds Dean had given him to fill with salt at the kitchen table, once she'd joined him the task passed quickly. Morgan sat with them and, while the process didn't look difficult, decided the two were more than capable of completing the bullets without her help and continued memorizing spells in the bok Gungnir, focusing on the Norse incantations she'd always avoided.

"Y'all really don't know how much we appreciate this," Garth said again as he and Bess entered the kitchen, Channing holding tight to his father's index finger.

"It's not a problem," Dean told him as he unwrapped a frozen lasagna and preheated the oven.

"Channing," Bess knelt to her son's level, "Mommy 'n Daddy will be back in a little while, you need to be good for everyone, okay?"

The little boy nodded slowly, shifting his gaze to Dean warily, but brightened suddenly as Sam snuck in the kitchen behind Garth and Bess. Morgan giggled as his tiny legs pumped towards Sam while her brother took two long strides to the counter and turned to lean against it, staring down in surprise at Channing's grin.

"Up," Channing put his arms above his head and jumped on his toes without leaving the ground.

Everyone laughed a little as Sam looked at Bess and Garth before chuckling and bending down to pick up the toddler. He sat Channing on his hip and Morgan couldn't help but find Sam's apprehensive expression amusing. The little boy was clearly very taken with her brother and a chubby hand reached out and grabbed a clump of his long hair.

"Channing!" Bess snapped and the toddler looked over, but didn't relent Sam's hair, despite the tallest Winchester trying to work a large finger into the tiny fist, "No, let go!" he did and giggled, "No pulling hair, that's bad," his smile became a pout in moments, "What do you say?"

"Sowy," Channing whispered with his eyes down.

"I'm sorry, Sam," Bess put a hand to her short, blonde bob, "I actually cut my hair 'cause I couldn't deal with that anymore."

"It's alright," Sam smirked.

"Great, finally give him an excuse," Dean commented, grinning at the scowl Sam shot him.

"Here," Garth handed a blue backpack covered with cartoon puppies wearing emergency personnel uniforms to Dean, "Figured we'd just put it all together for you, the usual, diapers, toys, 'n an extra shirt, his tablet's in there, he'll zone into an episode of Paw Patrol f'r'ten 'r fifteen minutes sometimes."

"Taw Troll!" Channing clapped his hands happily.

"This?" Dean lifted the bag, looking at the characters, and Garth nodded, "Gotta be better than Fraggle Rock."

"Hey," Sam interjected, "stop hatin' on Fraggle Rock, that show was great."

"Either of you know what they're talkin' about?" Morgan asked Bryan and Claire, both shook their heads.

"It was a great show," Garth agreed, giving Sam a half smile.

"He's already eaten and I hope y'don't mind, but I threw his teether in the fridge," Bess told Dean, bringing the conversation back to Channing, "but if you need it, the cooler's in our room."

"That's ridiculous," Dean scoffed, "We have an industrial size fridge, it'll fit."

"Y'sure?" Garth asked almost timidly.

"Of course," Dean nodded and Garth and Bess both expressed their appreciation, "No worries, get goin' we got this, we'll see y'soon."

Garth and Bess bid their goodbyes, waving at Channing and promising to be back soon as they walked out of the kitchen. Leaving the Winchesters, Bryan and Claire in a moment of awkward silence, staring at the tiny werewolf in Sam's arms.

"Where's Cas?" Dean asked.

"Hidin'," Bryan answered, continuing when Dean raised a questioning eyebrow at him, "Popped his head in here a little while ago, said he needed a break from the interrogation."

Sam and Dean chuckled and nodded in understanding, Channing threw his head back suddenly and started laughing manically, followed by a moment of surprised silence before everyone laughed loudly.

"How 'bout you take him in y'r'room?" Dean suggested handing Sam Channing's blue bag.

"Why?" Sam looked at his brother with brief horror.

"Mostly 'cause'a the hot oven 'n weapons spread out on the table," Dean jerked his head at Bryan and Claire packing the salt rounds into boxes.

"I got some work in the library," Sam shrugged.

"Yeah, he'll do great on those stairs," Dean commented dryly.

Sam sighed at his brother and glanced at the little boy in his arms, still grinning madly at him, "We'll be in my room," and the tallest and smallest left together down the hallway.

"So, what're y'readin?" Bryan asked, peering at the bok Gugnir open in front of Morgan.

"An ancient Norse potion that causes temporary paralysis," she answered before looking up, giggling at the smirk on his face, "There's a Latin spell that does the same thing, so this is kinda arbitrary, but I did find an incantation for teleporting," she swung her gaze at Dean as he sipped a beer, leaning against the counter.

"No thanks," her brother shook his head and patted his stomach, "all that zappy crap messes with my system."

"Thanks f'r'that lovely bit of information," Claire scoffed lightly.

"According t'this," Morgan flipped the page, scanning with her finger, "it works on targets, no physical contact required, just poof."

"So you could Crowley, Crowley?" Dean smirked.

"I like Crowley," she shrugged, noticing the surprised expressions she was getting from the entire room, "What? He's a jackass, but he never hides that 'n I don'know, he's kinda nice t'me, but yes, for all intents 'n purposes of this conversation, I could zappy crap Crowley as long as he's in my line of vision."

"Good t'know," Dean finished his beer and tossed the empty bottle in the trashcan, "You two done with those rounds?"

"Yes, sir," Bryan closed the last box and slid it in line with the others on the table.

"A'right, they gotta get in the trunk," Dean stacked a few of the boxes as Bryan took the other half and followed the oldest Winchester from the kitchen.

"Y'r'boyfriend's really ass kissin' Dean," Claire told Morgan after they'd left.

"I'm pretty sure you're the only person who doesn't," she scoffed.

"You don't," the blonde shrugged.

"Yeah, well," Morgan smirked, "he loves me anyway."

Claire laughed lightly, nodding in agreement and turned to the doorway as Sam snuck in and took two long strides to the refrigerator.

"Need'a beer already?" Claire asked.

"Six," Sam rolled his eyes, popping the cap off the bottle and gulping the liquid, "He's into an episode'a that puppy show so I got ten minutes."

"Hey, I was tellin' them I found this old spell," Morgan brought the bok Gugnir to Sam, knowing he'd appreciate not only the magic, but the beauty of the ancient text, "as long as I can see someone, or thing, I can learn to teleport it, poof y'know."

"Yeah?" Sam asked excitedly, looking from his sister back to the page she was showing him, "Like, you could Crowley, Crowley?"

Morgan sighed, "Yes, technically."

"I'd like t'see that trick," Sam winked.

"I gotta practice," Morgan shrugged, closing the violet spell book.

"You'll get there," he said encouragingly, knocking his beer bottle gently on her shoulder before taking another sip.

For a few minutes, the three of them discussed their expectations for the scry session planned later that night, but the conversation quickly dissolved into the possibilities Morgan's renewed magic allowed her and the team. Sam was particularly eager for her to try out the temporary shrinking spell again and Claire agreed it would be very helpful.

"Hey, how's the kid?" Dean asked as he and Bryan walked back into the kitchen.

"Watchin' his show," Sam shrugged, but pushed off the counter, leaving his empty bottle, "I'll go check on him."

"So, Dean," Bryan began, "Claire was showin' me the gym while y'all were gone, we we're workin' on some stuff, but, uh, maybe, uh, you 'r Sam would spar with me?"

"He doesn't wanna hurt me," Claire chuckled, punching Bryan playfully in the arm.

"I don't blame him," Dean commented dryly, pulling a beer from the refrigerator, "Y'might get more than y'r'lookin' for with Sam 'n me though, kid."

"That's alright," Bryan nodded and Morgan saw surprise in the small raise of her brother's eyebrows.

Before Dean could respond, Sam skidded to a halt in the kitchen doorway with terror on his face.

"Have you seen Channing?" he blurted out, shifting his gaze around the room.

"You've gotta be kidding me," Dean hung his head and set his unopened beer on the counter.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sam's adventures in babysitting...


	34. Chapter 34

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tiny werewolf hunt begin! Okay, it's more of a catch and release plan

"Channing!" Dean's voice boomed through the hallway as the group clamored out of the kitchen.

"Don't yell!" Morgan hissed at him, "Y'r'gonna scare him!"

"I'm not gonna scare him," Dean scoffed, but shrugged as Sam and Claire both turned on him, "A'right I won't yell."

Sam's bedroom door was open and Morgan had never seen the normally clean room so disheveled. A pile of books laid on the floor in front of the well-organized case by his desk, which looked as though an animal had run across it, scattering papers and pens on the floor.

"Ground zero," Dean commented staring at the mess.

"Yeah," Sam sighed, "pretty sure there was a marker in that cup'a pens, too."

"A permanent marker?" Dean turned slowly to his brother.

"No, a goddamn Crayola," Sam rolled his eyes, "I'm an adult, Dean, of course it was a permanent marker."

"Man," Dean continued down the hall and the others followed, "Y'r'cleanin' it up, Sammy, this is on you."

"Whatever," Sam nodded, "Let's just find the kid."

"Let's split up," Claire interjected, "He couldn't've gone far."

"A'right," Dean agreed, "Whoever finds him, holler."

Morgan pushed her partially open bedroom door and peered around the empty room, dipping her head to ensure there was nothing but her neglected cheerleading uniform under the bed, before closing the door and continuing down the hall away from the library. All she could hope was Channing hadn't gotten himself into anything dangerous, for a normal child the bunker wasn't exactly the safest place, but for a little boy fatally allergic to silver, it could be much worse.

Turning the corner towards the pristinely white exam room, she met Sam again, standing with tense shoulders and his hands on his hips, staring at the floor. Morgan stifled a gasping giggle when she saw the maze of black lines on the floor, the large permanent marker lying in the grout between a couple newly decorated tiles, the cap nowhere in sight.

"I hafta clean that," Sam sighed at his sister and looked back at the mess.

"Yeah you do," she nodded unsympathetically and he followed her out of the exam room, closing the door on their exit.

Together, she and Sam checked the rooms on their way to the gymnasium, only one closet seemed affected by Channing's destructive path when they found a broom stick with tiny teeth marks and a lot of residual drool. Morgan was sure she'd seen him gnawing on some frozen, jelly-looking thing when Bess had put him down for a nap earlier and felt a pang of sadness for the tiny, lost werewolf who was teething. When they reached the gymnasium, Claire and Bryan were just leaving, assuring the Winchesters the large room was clear of the little lycanthrope.

A few minutes later, the group found themselves reforming in front of Sam's room, but as Dean walked up the hall from the library without Channing they all sighed with frustration.

"Where the hell is this little monster?" Claire growled.

"Hey," Morgan scowled a little at her.

"I just meant, monster, like because he's a kid," the blonde shook her head, "they're all monsters."

Sam and Dean smirked in agreeance before the oldest sighed and shook his head in defeat, "Seriously, I mean, we track werewolves all over the country and we can't find a two-year-old one in our own home?!"

"Wait!" Morgan said suddenly, bringing everyone's eyes to her just before she bolted towards the library.

Taking the stairs in two's, she winced when she forgot the soreness residing in her bottom and slammed into the wooden chair at the library table. Barely after a moment to collect herself, Morgan adjusted her crystals, still sitting in wait on the finished wood, and focused all her attention on the energetic toddler, her vision began to blur in the warmth penetrating her body barely before the words mumbled from her lips.

The sweet face of a sleeping toddler came into focus, his soft snores could barely be heard over the thundering echo of heavy footsteps, but the little boy didn't stir. A familiar blanket and strange feline face came into focus and Morgan instantly released the session, gazing into Claire, Bryan and her brothers' expectant faces at the bottom of the library staircase.

"Grumpy Cat," Morgan gasped as she stood and the others bolted back down the hallway.

Morgan skidded to a halt in Claire's open doorway, peering around Bryan to where Sam and Dean were shaking their heads in amused relief at the little boy, curled on Claire's bed, sucking his thumb and clinging to her sour-faced, stuffed cat.

"I swear t'God I checked in here," Claire whispered.

"He Scooby-Dooed us," Bryan and Dean shrugged, glancing at each other after the coincidence, Bryan grinned, Dean scoffed quietly.

"Hey, what's that smell?" Claire lifted her nose in the air.

"Shit!" Dean scooted around Morgan and bolted down the hallway towards the kitchen.

\----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Garth and Bess returned to the bunker a little after midnight, walking through the hallway to the kitchen arm in arm and laughing, both were covered in dirt and blood, disappearing again minutes later, but the echo of a running shower revealed the couple's location.

Morgan had started practicing teleporting objects, making them disappear was easy, but finding the right focus to make them reappear in the intended spot was proving difficult. Sam had insisted she start with things that didn't have sharp ends, after entering the kitchen with a fork that had magically impaled his nightstand. She decided the basket of socks missing their partners would finally have a use and set one after another on the table, forcing all her energy on teleporting it to the other side.

"Ŭtan!" Morgan said with purpose, the sock disappeared, but was nowhere in sight and she sighed.

"Don't wear y'rself out," Dean warned, walking in the kitchen and grabbing a beer from the refrigerator.

"I'm fine," she promised happily, "Seriously, magic has never been so painless."

"I think Cas was right," he joined her at the table.

"And Crowley," she smirked.

"Yeah, fine," Dean shrugged, "I'm glad y'r'happy, Sweetie, really, as long as y'r'safe, 'n I think we may've lucked out with Sophie."

Morgan nodded in agreement, but before she could respond, Claire walked into the kitchen with fistfuls of random socks.

"Why is my room raining smelly old socks?" she stared at her friend.

"They're clean," Dean patted the now mostly empty basket of missing socks.

"I'm sorry," Morgan giggled, but started laughing boisterously as Bryan walked in with a sock in each hand.

"Lucky y'only got two," Claire lifted her hands a bit, showing him the several socks that had landed in her room.

"I'm tryin'," Morgan assured them as her laughter subsided, "They disappear fine, but gettin' them in the right place isn't goin' very well. It's like I'm missing a step," she glanced again at the incantation she'd memorized and the notes that had been written for it, suddenly catching a very faded scrawl in the top corner 'Det er allerede der'. She knew that hand writing and her stomach twisted with fear and hatred for a moment before letting her Mother's words sink in, 'It is already there'.

If the others were talking, Morgan didn't hear them. She grabbed another sock from the basket and barely glanced at it before setting her gaze on the other end of the table this time and repeating the incantation for what she was sure was the hundredth time. There is was, a black sock with a hole in the toe had appeared right where she was looking across the kitchen table, bringing her eyes back in front of her, Morgan squealed to see it was gone. She'd done it!

"Holy shit," Dean breathed, slapping another sock in front of his sister, "Do it again."

She obliged immediately, focusing this time on the counter and suddenly the sock in front of her on the table was in her line of vision, exactly where she intended. Dean clapped her on the back proudly and she wrapped her arms around his neck, giggling ecstatically.

"What's goin' on?" Sam walked in the kitchen and pulled a beer from the refrigerator.

"Stay right there," Morgan told him, pulling another sock from the basket and giving Dean a sideways smirk.

Sam looked at them with confusion, but shook his head at the sock that appeared in his hand, wrapped around his beer like a poor excuse for a koozie.

"Guess y'figured it out," Sam laughed, pulling the sock from the bottle and flinging it as his amused siblings.

"Hey, look who's still here," Dean leaned back in his chair as Castiel joined them in the kitchen.

"I'm leaving," Castiel said simply and Dean was on his feet in the same moment.

"What?" the oldest barked, "I just went 'n saved y'r'ass and now, what, where're you gonna go?"

"Heaven," the angel told him, "I've been in contact with some of my brothers and sisters, they are concerned about the demon army Dagon has maintained control over, with the additional information I was able to provide about the Maw of Fenris, many of them feel it's in Heaven, and Earth's best interests that we reform as much of the garrison as possible. And as I am-"

"You," Dean scoffed when his friend's words trailed away.

"Yes," Castiel nodded.

"So we've got the angels on our side," Sam sipped his beer.

"Many," Castiel agreed, "Though I'm certain there are those who prefer not to get involved."

"Just don't go off the radar, okay?" Dean growled, but Morgan heard pleading in his voice.

"I promise to stay in touch," the angel assured them, "I will need transportation, if I could bother you for a vehicle."

"Take Sam's turtle," Dean jerked his head at his brother, who rolled his eyes.

"You have a turtle?" Castiel turned to Sam, "Where?"

"The keys are in my Mustang," Sam stifled a chuckle, "Y'headin' out now?"

"I must," Castiel confirmed.

"Gonna miss the show," Dean checked his watch.

"I hope you will call me with new information," Castiel's statement earned nods from both brothers, "I will keep you informed of anything I find."

Garth and Bess returned to the kitchen together, clean and in fresh clothing, the former inclined his head in confusion at the angel.

"You're not leavin' are you?" the werewolf asked the angel.

"Shortly, yes," Castiel answered quickly, "I've found my own way to help."

"It was great t'meet'cha," Garth caught Castiel off guard as he wrapped his arms around the socially awkward celestial being.

"Yes, thank you," Castiel nodded, taking a small step back when Garth released him.

"Take care'a y'rself," Dean said, "And if I call Cas-"

"I answer, I know," the angel grinned at his friend.

They said their goodbyes and Castiel left the kitchen towards the garage.

"I hope Channing wasn't too much trouble," Bess commented.

"Not at all," Dean grinned while Sam shook his head in agreeance with his brother's statement.

Claire, Morgan and Bryan rolled their eyes at each other.

\--------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Finally, it was nearly three in the morning and, considering everyone was already there and Bess wanted to be close to Channing in case he woke up, Morgan arranged her crystals on the kitchen table. For several hours she'd impatiently glanced at the clock, her crystals had been perfectly arranged for the last twenty minutes and the last three Morgan had spent staring at her oldest brother with a bored gaze.

"A'right," Dean looked at his watch before nodding at his sister, "Go ahead."

Stifling an excited squeal, Morgan grinned at the others as she snatched the claw in her hand and brought her attention to her crystals as Sam flipped the kitchen light off.

"Okay, Randal," she pressed the claw between her palms, "What're you doin'?"

Warmth passed through every vein as her crystals blurred on the dark table and the kitchen faded into the large living room of a cabin, lit only by flames roaring in the huge stone fireplace and a few torches high on log-sized support beams. She felt a surge of fear peering around her surroundings at the dozens of men circling two enraged werewolves tearing each other apart on the bearskin hearth rug. Randal was roaring with amusement in the crowd, egging on the fighters equally, she didn't see Luke, but most of the men were very tall and the room was dim. Several of them quieted, turning away from the gruesome match and Morgan followed their gazes to the second story balcony where five men stood, gazing down at the mangy mob with clear disgust. The two werewolves on the hearth rug stopped fighting, calming themselves into human form, but averting their eyes from the men on the landing above them.

The broadest and tallest man stood in the middle, his jet-black hair was slicked back and cut short, the dark gray button-down shirt he wore was pulled taut over a muscular chest and his sleeves were rolled to his elbows, showing massive forearms folded over each other as his dark eyes surveyed the men below him. Those flanking him were no doubt intimidating in their own right, but there was no competing with the shadow cast by who Morgan was sure was Phelan.

The silence of the recently boisterous throng of werewolves proved the respect, and fear, this man commanded with merely his presence. Finally, he honored them with words.

"Brothers," he began in a low, harsh tone, "I thank you all for coming here, tonight. You have proven yourselves worthy of our cause," he paused and swept his audience, "Ragnarok."

The room exploded with cheers and roars, the crowd of men jumping and hollering made Morgan feel a bit sick, but she continued observing, still quite surprised by the lack of discomfort she was experiencing. Phelan put up his hands and they quieted quickly, waiting for him to continue.

"We have an ally with the demons," his words were met with hissing and boos, but the man to Phelan's right in a dark blue dress shirt stepped forward, angrily slamming his fist on the railing.

"Hey!" the dark-haired man barked, "Omegas, shut up 'n listen to your Alpha!"

As the room silenced again, Phelan put the back of his hand lightly on the other man's arm, pushing him back into line behind him without effort.

"Thank you, Beta," Phelan growled and turned back to the room below him, "Julian here, understands my plan, the plan that will allow Ragnarok to become reality, freeing us from a world of persecution and hiding. We will rule in a world run by monsters, humans will run and hide from us!"

Again, the room erupted with excitement from his followers.

"In a few days' time," Phelan continued once they had settled, "I will complete the first step and awaken the spirit of Fenris under the half-moon. What I need from you, is more, more wolves. I understand we are having a difficult time tracking down some of our brethren," this proclamation was followed by quiet murmurs in the crowd as many of the men dropped their gaze to the ground, "Find them. The Prince of Hell has promised an army by the full moon, we must outnumber them, this is our war and I will not find myself in shame because my troops are lacking. We will spend the time until the half-moon training, molding you into a soldier of Fenris, and I expect to see results in recruitment between now and the full moon, when the blood of Odin will be wiped from this world."

They cheered again, though many looked firmly chastised and would rather not be there, the Alpha's final words stirred excitement in the group. Morgan could feel her body cooling and knew she didn't have long before the session would end itself, but held on as hard as she could, gazing out the window into blackness, trying to get a more direct location than the massive state of Montana.

"We will start a new world," Phelan promised, "and you who have joined me without question will reap the rewards. The time has come for us to rule!" again they cheered, "On the full moon I, the last descendant of Fenris, will drag her to the top of Beartooth and devour the heart that pumps the last of Odin's blood!"

As they cheered louder than before, Morgan felt a freezing chill shiver down her spine as the room dissolved.

\----------------------------------------------------------------------------------

"Shit! Morgan!"

Her eyes blinked open at the sound of her brother's frantic voice and tried to roll her shoulder from him shaking her a little rougher than she appreciated.

"Dean, stop," she whined, lifting her head from the table and blinking her eyes in the bright kitchen.

"Are you okay?" her oldest brother's hand was still on her shoulder, but at least he'd stopped shaking her.

"Yeah," she nodded.

"How's y'r'head?" Sam asked.

"Fine," she nodded again, "no pain, just think I made myself hold on too long."

"You were out for a while," Claire told her.

"Phelan's longwinded," Morgan commented dryly, but the others' eyes widened.

"You saw him?" Garth breathed.

"He was holding court," Morgan told him, "There's a lot of werewolves, sorry, I mean lycan-"

"It's fine," Bess and Garth shook their heads, urging her to continue.

"A lot of 'em," she nodded, "Someone, I don't know it was weird, Phelan had like a small group with him and he called one of them Beta, but then he called him Julian."

"Did he call the others Omega?" Bess asked.

"Julian, Beta, yeah, he did," Morgan told her.

"Wolf ranks," Sam said a little quietly, but continued at the gazes he received, "The Alpha, in this situation, Phelan, Betas are like his second in command and the Omegas are well-"

"The bitches," Claire added.

"No, that would be the women," Bess smirked and Claire blushed.

"They're the underdogs," Sam added, "The bottom of the pack."

"A'right," Morgan nodded slowly, "so this Julian is Phelan's Beta, or one of them 'cause there were three other guys with him, but there was at least thirty or so Omegas, and he told them he wants more."

"What'd he say?" Dean asked in a low, concerned tone.

Morgan started with the two werewolves fighting in front of the fireplace and explained everything she'd seen and heard inside the cabin.

"He said he's gonna take me to Beartooth and eat my heart," she said finally, scoffing with feigned indifference.

"The band?" Claire and Bryan asked together.

"Who?" Dean turned towards the young man and the blonde.

"You wouldn't like them," Claire assured him.

"It sounded like a place," Morgan said matter-of-factly.

"A mountain," Sam got their attention as he scanned his laptop, "Beartooth Mountain, get this," he chuckled darkly, "right outside'a Wolf Creek, Montana."

"These bastards think they're funny?" Dean growled.

"So, when 'r we leavin'?" Claire asked.

"Calm down killer," Dean gave her a hard look, "There's prob'ly close t'fifty wolves there 'n you wanna charge in guns blazin'?" the young woman looked down at her feet, "He's trainin' his troops 'til the half-moon. Which is?"

"Friday," Sam was still looking at his computer.

"So, we figure he's sendin' them packin' what, Thursday?" Dean looked at Sam, who smirked in agreement, "Five wolves doesn't sound too bad."

"Get 'em before they initiate phase one," Sam nodded.

"A'right," Dean clapped his hands, "Bedtime, everybody's up at oh-nine-hundred, we got a plan t'make 'n some trainin' of our own t'do."

Bryan and Claire nodded curtly and left the kitchen, Bess and Garth lingered for a moment and Morgan felt the awkward heat of eyes on her as she pushed her crystals around with a finger. Looking up, both brothers were staring blankly at her.

"What?" she flicked her gaze between them.

"Do I need t'repeat myself?" Dean asked, "Bed, now, let's go."

"I thought," she began, but realized her brother was including her in the training, in the plan, and grinned as she slid off the chair, "G'night."

"Good job t'day, kid," Dean kissed her head before releasing her from his arms.

"Yeah," Sam nodded, pulling her into a quick embrace and placing his own peck on her hair, "you did great."

"Thanks," Morgan felt her cheeks blushing a bit as she left the kitchen.


	35. Chapter 35

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Off to Montana!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter ends the stupid fast updates, this story is now caught up to it's current point and I'll continue to update 1-2 times a week on average- expect the next chapter tomorrow. Hope you stick with this story as it continues!

A loud rap on Morgan's door immediately preceded Dean's booming, "Get up, get dressed, breakfast in five."

Checking her phone, it was one minute after nine and less than six hours of sleep was not enough. Regardless, Morgan rolled herself out of bed, noticing her bottom felt only tingly, and found her jeans. Both of her brothers were in the kitchen, Sam already on his laptop as Dean whisked a fork in a pan of cooking eggs, bacon sizzled in another.

"Seriously, guys," Morgan poured herself a cup of coffee, "sleep, it's a wonderful thing, you should try it sometime."

"Mornin'," Bryan sounded very awake and Morgan blinked her eyes hard in shock as he entered the kitchen and grabbed a mug for himself.

"Mornin'," Sam grinned, Dean mumbled.

"If y'all drank all the coffee I'm gonna be pissed," Claire trudged into the kitchen with half-open eyes.

"Here," Bryan chuckled and handed her the cup he'd just poured, grabbing another.

"How is it this kid's bright eyed 'n bushy tailed 'n you two look like night'a the living dead?" Dean scoffed lightly at the girls.

"He's a freak," Claire muttered, sipping her coffee and giving Bryan a small smile, "Thanks."

The young man smirked and nodded, "With school 'n two jobs, I've been runnin' on five hours a night f'r'years."

"Yeah," Morgan furrowed her brow at Bryan, "What happened? I mean do they think you just took off?"

"Well, I called them," he shrugged, "I mean we had t'have cover, said Mom had the itch t'move all of a sudden, told him we went t'New Mexico, 'n Mrs. Morris is backin' it up," Bryan's smile had faded while he spoke, but nodded seemingly to himself before smirking, "she always said if she had the guts t'leave Kansas she'd've gone t'New Mexico."

For a few moments, everyone was silent, it wasn't awkward, but respectful of the hunter's wife who'd died so bravely.

"Anybody opposed to a stupid amount of cheese on these eggs?" Dean asked, finally breaking the silence.

No one expressed a problem over the portion of cheese he was offering.

Bess, Garth and Channing entered the kitchen as they were finishing breakfast, Garth had a duffel bag slung over his shoulder.

"You hittin' the road?" Dean asked, standing from the table.

"Yeah, soon," Garth nodded.

"Where are you going?" Morgan asked.

"Hopefully t'save as many others as I can before the Maw git to 'em," he told her.

"Bess 'n Channing are gonna stay here," Dean told them, "Have somebody t'hold down the fort 'n another safe house if we need it."

"You all are really amazing," Bess sounded like she was about to cry and Garth pulled her into him with one arm.

"Everything's gonna be fine," he whispered into his wife's hair and she nodded unconvincingly.

After a heartfelt hug to each Winchester and a kiss to his wife and son, Garth left quickly, but was unable to avoid a terribly sad tantrum by Channing who did not want his father to leave.

"Oh, hey, guys," Bess turned before she left the kitchen with a crying toddler in one arm and dug in the pocket of her sweater, "I found this in Channing's diaper, he does that sometimes," pulling a black cap for a permanent marker out and holding it up.

No one was able to keep from glancing at each other with small smirks of amusement, but Sam nodded and stepped forward.

"Yeah, I'll just," he took the cap from Bess with a guilty grin, "Thanks."

The Winchesters, Bryan and Claire moved to the library following breakfast, the younger three listening intently to the skeleton of a plan Sam and Dean had devised.

"We're leavin' Thursday 'n goin' in for the wolves Friday evening," Dean told them, "Our best bet for the location of the first stage is that it's the same as the final on the full-moon in two weeks."

"Beartooth Mountain," Sam continued, "We're waitin' t'hear from Cas on back up, but, I mean, we sneak attack this right, I don't see why we can't take five werewolves."

"We're gonna kill their plan before it even starts," Dean finished.

"Awesome," Claire smiled with excitement.

Dean grinned and shook his head, "You are goin' on a ride along, the three'a you are stayin' at a nice, safe motel on Friday night, this is an observing learning experience, not a hands on one."

Claire's smile had faded to a scowl, her blue eyes throwing daggers at him.

"You're welcome t'stay here," Dean offered and she scowled harder a moment before relenting with a sigh and looking away while crossing her arms.

"Am I invited on this observation experience?" Bryan asked.

"Y'r'sittin' here aren't'cha kid?" Dean's tone made both Morgan and Sam glare at him.

After a run through of the wolves they'd identified, the brothers assumed the angry Beta, Julian, was Julian Duval of the powerful Chicago werewolf family and clearly this meant the rest of the Duvals could be counted on as part of Phelan's ranks, the team talked the basic steps following their arrival in Wolf Creek to exhaustion. Drive to Wolf Creek, find crappy motel, Morgan checks in on Randal to observe the movement of the Omegas, physical surveillance to locate Beartooth Mountain and the cabin, finally followed by Bryan, Claire and Morgan eating pizza and watching terrible cable in the by-the-hour room while Sam and Dean killed the Alpha and his closest advisors. Morgan was glad when her brothers decided to run some drills in the gymnasium, Claire popped her head off the table from a nearly sleeping state, Bryan, however, had somehow managed to listen to Dean's longwinded explanations and plans without slumping with boredom in his chair.

The drills were hard. Even Sam was pushing more than usual, though Morgan understood an emit threat always had that effect on her brothers. Claire challenged Sam to spar and with an eyeroll, the tallest Winchester accepted. Morgan watched as she tried to concentrate on an old favorite, invisibility, a couple of times she'd made a block disappear and Dean stumbled on the heavy object he couldn't see, the first time was definitely an accident.

"Hey," he growled at her after regaining his balance, "strike two."

"It was an accident!" she implored.

"My ass," Dean scoffed, turning back to the young man he was approaching, "You sure about this, kid? I ain't gonna go easy on you."

"Hope y'don't," Bryan found a natural stance and her brother followed.

Dean shook his head before setting his eyes on the younger man and beckoning him forward. Bryan took a small step, closing the gap further, but not quite within reach. The next moment they were scrapping, Morgan wasn't even sure who went in first, but the two were locked together and with a sweeping kick, landed on the ground. Bryan moved his legs and swung Dean off him, tossing the older man to the mat, both of them jumped to their feet crouched low at the other, circling. They reminded Morgan of the werewolves in front of the fire at Phelan's cabin, she didn't want to watch, but couldn't help it, even Sam and Claire had stopped to observe.

Bryan rushed at Dean and, with an experienced move, the older man flipped him, landing on the mat face up, hard. Bryan looked like he was struggling to move, gasping for breath. Morgan rushed from the bench she'd been sitting on and knelt beside him, glaring at her oldest brother.

"What did you do?!" she barked at him.

"He got the wind knocked outta him," Dean said simply, crouching on the other side of Bryan, "Y'okay?"

Bryan nodded, taking slow, short inhales as his breathing slowly returned to normal and he sat up, taking Dean's offered hand for help to his feet.

"Y'don't suck, kid," Dean said bluntly.

"Thanks," Bryan said weakly, but nodded in appreciation of the almost compliment.

No one wanted to break for lunch. Morgan practiced tons of spells, her teleporting abilities were improving quickly and she was now able to transport objects into other rooms and make them accurately reappear where she intended. This was particularly fun to do when Sam left for the bathroom and Dean convinced her to move a practice dummy directly in front of the second toilet, certain of his brother's habits, and proved correct a few moments later when they heard a loud yell echoing down the tile halls.

"You guys, suck!"

0

They'd all said good-night and retired to their rooms as Morgan detoured further up the hall to the bathroom. On her way out, she heard a quiet whispering noise and turned towards the sound, her stomach fluttering at the sight of Bryan leaning in his doorway, shirtless.

"Hey," he whispered as she walked towards him quickly, glancing around the hallway.

"Hi," she smiled, peering around his large frame and back into his dark brown eyes, "Are y'gonna let me in? Standin' out here's askin' f'r'trouble."

He scoffed as he moved aside, welcoming her into the room, "Because havin' you in here's not gonna cause any'a that."

"At least not as quickly," she smiled mischievously and took a step closer, putting her hand on his bare chest and quivering from the warmth.

Bryan didn't waste a moment, tipping her chin up and bringing his mouth down on hers, pulling her close with the other hand around the small of her back. Morgan's hands found their way around his ribs and up his smooth, strong back. His fingers moved, flipping the back of her shirt up and Bryan's calloused hand touched her skin. Morgan shivered with longing, wanting him to keep touching her as his fingers moved up her back, around to the soft skin of her stomach and crept up until he was gently massaging one of her small breasts. She instinctually kissed him harder, pulling a bit on his back with her fingertips, unsure what she wanted, but it was more.

"Hey, Morgan, c'mere a minute!" Dean's voice halted all passionate emotions in a rapid heartbeat.

"Shit!" Morgan whispered as she bolted from the room and ran to the bathroom door, slowing to a normal pace and forcing a composed expression just in time for her brother to walk out of her bedroom.

"Where were you?" Dean asked.

"Bathroom," she jerked her head and tried to sound nonchalant, praying he didn't hear the slight shaking in her voice, "What's up?"

"I just wanted t'tell you, privately," he began, "that I think y'r'doin' a great job, you really seem to have your head on straight the last few days, 'n maybe it's 'cause of," he paused and Morgan blushed, holding back an eyeroll, "but I'm proud of what I've seen since we've been home."

"Thanks, Dean," she nodded, unsure why he had to have chosen that exact moment to have this revelation with her, "G'night."

"Night, Sweetie," he waited until her door closed to enter his own room.

Morgan sighed heavily, her insides were still squirming and she wanted nothing more than to still be in Bryan's room, wondering what else could've happened if they hadn't been interrupted.

0

The next couple of days followed similarly, though they'd stopped focusing on the already well-known information and mostly trained with weapons and worked on fighting techniques while Morgan poured through one spell book after another. Though teleportation had become boring when Dean refused to let anyone be the guinea pig for human trials, so, with lack of any animals around, Morgan decided to create her own to continue working on teleporting. Unfortunately, conjuring a living animal was harder than anything else she'd attempted, understanding why it was normally a talent reserved for much older witches. She did manage to make something that looked like it could've been a guinea pig, if that rodent had been eaten by boa constrictor and that snake was then sent through a wood chipper, yes, in that case the resemblance was uncanny.

Most of the spells she'd tried were completed correctly within a few attempts and perfected over the next several dozen. In revenge for the bathroom prank, Sam sweettalked his sister into making their older brother's beers invisible. Dean clearly thought he was losing his mind as he reached for a third and the other two started laughing manically just before Morgan waved her hand and his two, opened, but undrunk beers sat right next to each other on the counter.

"Cute," Dean smirked, picking up both and sipping from each.

Bryan was relentless in the gymnasium, several times being threateningly told by Dean to take a break, and while they spent plenty of time in the gun range, neither Sam or Dean had any comments on the young man's stance or grip on a pistol, he hit with deadly accuracy on every shot.

"Y'r'Dad teach'cha how to shoot like that?" Sam asked when they were dismantling and cleaning the weapons afterwards.

"Mostly," Bryan nodded, "Mom 'n I used to go shooting sometimes, she liked t'stay sharp."

"Sounds like a badass lady," Dean's comment was sudden and a little gruff sounding.

"She was," the young man's lips curled in the corners.

0

Morgan had no idea why Bess was such a fantastic cook for someone who's diet almost entirely existed of hearts from large mammals, but she did not mind. On Wednesday evening, she made everyone a steak and seemed very happy when all of them insisted she and Channing join them. It was hardly noticeable the way Bess picked delicately at pieces of raw offal, however, Channing gnawing his small, bloody organ was a bit nauseating at times, though strangely cute in his own tiny werewolf way.

"We'll keep in touch," Dean promised as he cut another bite of his steak, "Let you know if you should be expectin' anybody. Don't open the door otherwise."

"Of course," Bess nodded.

"Another hunter, Asa Fox," Dean continued, "might be swingin' through next week, might need a place to recoup," he saw the fear on the female werewolf's face, "He's good people, 'n he's got a couple kids who're witches, so, his view isn't just black 'n white on hunting."

Bess seemed to relax a bit and nodded at the oldest Winchester before giving Morgan a small sideways smile. She was staring at her brother, wondering if she'd ever get an opportunity to meet the magical offspring of another hunter, excited by the idea. Maybe she wasn't terribly unusual after all.

A loud squealing sound came from the toddler, sitting next to his mother on a stack of reference books covered by a hand towel, Channing laughed manically for a moment before shoving the heart at his already blood-soaked mouth with both hands and sucking happily.

The Winchesters couldn't stifle a soft chuckle, even Claire and Bryan cracked a smile at the excitement the little lycanthrope had over the uncooked chicken heart he was devouring.

0

Thursday finally arrived and Morgan woke to her brothers already packing the Impala and rechecking supplies. Before the sun had barely begun rising in the sky, they were on the road. Bryan had offered to drive his own car, but Dean had quickly, and tersely, told him that he was a passenger on this trip and the young man got in the behind Sam's seat without further delay.

Morgan preferred the backseat alone, but with her friend on one side and the handsome young man on the other, who inconspicuously slid his fingers down her thigh before Dean dropped into the driver's seat, she decided this wouldn't be a terrible road trip even with her legs crammed around the green cooler.

The car ride was not horribly unenjoyable for the most part, Bryan asked Dean if he had Bob Seger's Live Bullet album and while the oldest hardly made a comment, it took only a few seconds for him to pop the cassette into the tape deck. Around lunch time, Dean found another run down looking, yet delicious, diner and the group ate quickly before piling back into the large sedan.

In the early afternoon, Dean's phone rang and he turned down the music, holding it to his ear.

"Hello? – Hey, Fox, how's it goin'? – Good, good t'hear. Did'ja meet up with Jody? – Awesome, well we're headin' into a boss fight in Montana. – Naw, Sam 'n I got this. – Yeah, just you 'n y'r'kids right? – Yeah, our friend's wife 'n their son are stayin' there now. You've heard'a Garth. – Yeah, as long as we're on the same page, Asa. – Sounds good, just let me know 'n I'll call Bess. – A'right. – You too," and he dropped the phone in his lap.

"What's Fox up to?" Sam asked as Dean turned the music up, but not as loud as before.

"Gettin' a lotta hunters outta the vampires' way," Dean nodded, "Headin' down through Iowa now."

When they finally reached the mountains, Morgan couldn't stop staring out the driver's side windows, remembering the first time she'd seen them on their trip to Denver and still finding their beauty enthralling.

"Have you been t'the mountains before?" she asked Bryan.

"Yeah," he nodded, "My Grandpa lived in Manning, Colorado, we visited a few times when I was little."

"What was he like?" Sam interjected, turning in the front seat a little, "Your Grandpa?"

"He was always nice t'me," Bryan shrugged with a light chuckle, "My Dad used t'say he was the biggest hardass, though."

"Prob'ly why he got along with our Dad," Sam commented and both laughed, Dean either didn't hear them or pretended he hadn't.

They arrived at Frenchie's Motel a little before mid-night, Morgan found herself being shaken gently awake by Bryan and lifted her head from his shoulder. The motel was more run down than the usual ones Dean found, but instead of a long row of connected room there were small cabins lined up along the gravel road next to an Exxon Mobil station. There didn't seem to be a lot of other options around and after Dean checked them in everyone shuffled into their cabin, falling onto the furniture with exhaustion.

Besides the main room with a kitchenette and a living room of pull-out furniture, there was a bedroom with two small beds and a bathroom that Morgan was sure no one had bothered cleaning for ages. At Dean's direction, she and Claire took their bags to the bedroom, closing the door to change into more comfortable clothes, she wondered why she hadn't worn sweatpants on the long trip as she peeled her jeans off, seeing red lines from the seams down her thighs.

Both couches and the arm chair had been pulled into sad attempts at beds when they reentered the living room. Despite there not being much in way of a size difference between Bryan and the Winchester men, except the few extra inches Sam towered over everyone, he insisted on taking the smaller, pull-out chair. Dean, however, informed him since the chair was located closest to the door, Bryan needed to pick a couch.

Everyone washed up and went to bed in turn, the tiny, grime covered window in the girls' room let in very little moonlight and, even though neither of them was at all afraid of the dark, both decided to leave the door to the living room partially open. Within minutes, the cabin was filled with the sounds of snores that were usually muffled behind heavy wooden doors, Morgan and Claire giggled at each other before turning over and closing their eyes.


	36. Chapter 36

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Chapter contains spanking

Unlike every morning from the last few days, the girls were not woken by either brother, but simply the light shining through the greenish window. Morgan followed the blonde into the living room, but it was completely empty. Just before she reached the door, a note on the small table caught her eye and Morgan stopped, having read the simple order the moment she'd seen it.

'DON'T LEAVE'

Great. The motel lock-down was starting earlier than she'd thought. Claire scoffed at the note and lurched the door open, just in time for Dean, who was approaching with a bag of gas station food and snacks.

"Why, thank you," he smirked at Claire as he passed the threshold and she shut the door.

"You get any donuts?" Morgan asked, lifting on her toes to peer in the bag.

"Have y'met me?" Dean set it on the table and handed a box of powdered donuts to his sister.

"Thank you," she crooned, tearing it open greedily.

"Where 'r Sam 'n Bryan?" Claire asked, pulling a bag of nuts from the stash of treats.

"For some God awful reason they both felt the need to go running," he shook his head.

"So are we headin' out on some surveillance soon?" Claire looked longingly out the window.

Dean dipped his head and sighed, but before he could respond Morgan interjected, "I go first."

"Oh, right," Claire shook her head, "So, y'gonna get on that 'r what?"

"We're waitin' f'r'Carl Lewis 'n Michael Johnson," Dean told her and looked at his sister, "An' no magic in pajamas."

"What?" Morgan scoffed at the same time Claire let out a confused, "Who?"

"Go change," he addressed his sister first before returning to Claire, "Famous runners, won the Olympics, seriously?"

"How many centuries ago?" the blonde asked with a funny smirk.

"Go change," Dean growled and both girls returned to their room giggling, shutting the door behind them.

The door to the cabin opened and shut while Morgan was pulling her jeans on and she heard Sam, obviously rustling through the snacks Dean had gotten.

"Fruit?"

"I just threw some grapes in the fridge," Dean told him, "Didn't forget your rabbit food, even if you forget my pie," he mumbled the last part, but Morgan heard him as she returned to the small space and shared a grin with her oldest brother.

"Hey, those are mine," she jokingly accosted Bryan as he shoved a mini powdered donut in his mouth.

"Ain't got'cher name on it," the handsome young man retorted after a hard swallow.

With a snide grin, Morgan snatched a donut from the box and popped in her mouth, Bryan chuckled and Dean cleared his throat unnaturally.

"Morgan, make some more coffee would'ja?" Dean asked gruffly.

"I don't want any," she shrugged, having slept more than usual she felt very awake.

"Didn't ask if y'wanted any," he retorted, unwrapping a pre-made breakfast burrito.

Morgan rolled her eyes, but turned to the kitchenette and started making coffee, dumping the last, cold, half mug into the tiny sink. It seemed Dean would say or do anything to keep her and Bryan from even exchanging a few words. Sam shook his head a bit at the oldest, as he popped grapes in his mouth, but Dean seemed enthralled with the nutrition facts of the burrito he was devouring, it was extraordinarily unlike him.

She shoved the carafe under the filter she'd just filled with grounds and jammed at the brew button before exiting towards the bedroom.

"Where y'goin'?" Dean asked gruffly.

"Grab my stuff," she turned and answered tersely, "Y'wanna find these werewolves or not?"

Dean narrowed his eyes at her, but Morgan turned away and left the room haughtily. She dug in her duffel bag for the raggedy bag of witch tools, it was much fuller than it ever had been since she'd transferred a lot from her Mother's things, even though the dark red bag was much larger, Morgan refused to use it, preferring her tattered purple sack. Grabbing her crystals, she cinched the bag closed and took a deep breath before returning to the main room.

Bryan and Claire were pulling the blinds down on the windows and she saw her brothers separating from a quiet, private conversation. The handsome young man gave her an encouraging wink and Morgan's stomach stopped twisting with pent up anger and fluttered with excitement. Her brief grin dropped into mild irritation when she caught Dean's eyes again before sitting hard at the small table and arranging the gems in front of her.

"Claw," Morgan stuck her hand out, palm up to Dean, blinking impatiently.

"Better put down that shovel," he growled, setting the werewolf claw in her hand with a threatening eyebrow raise.

Morgan looked away, but didn't change her expression, she knew she was digging a hole with her oldest brother, but didn't care. Dean had been relentlessly overbearing, unsurprising with the looming threat, but with the addition of his curt attitude towards Bryan and interrupting even the smallest interaction between her and the handsome young man, Morgan was beyond rational thought with Dean's attitude towards Bryan.

With a deep breath, she calmed herself to focus on the task at hand, pressing the claw between her palms and muttering the memorized incantation, warmth radiating under her skin.

The whine of an engine trying to turn over reached her ears before the inside of Randal's car came into view, the bulky, sandy-haired man pumped the accelerator and pushed the key again, earning a sad growl finally.

"You should get that looked at," Luke suggested from the passenger seat.

"We haven't even left yet and you're talkin' again?" Randal snapped at the other man, making him shrink towards the passenger door.

Morgan saw towering mountains out the window and a trail of dust from the many cars barreling out of the gravel drive, but peering towards the East, she saw a huge decline as Randal's rumbled along a gravel road in their wake, a wide river was visible for a moment before he turned another corner. Morgan was trying to see as much as she could while Randal made his way down the side of a mountain and she turned her gaze just in time to see a beautiful cabin situated far back on a private road, a few expensive cars were parked out front, but the last few in the the line of rusty vehicles followed Randal. The ride was silent as the old car rattled along the bumpy road to the paved street below, Beartooth Road. Another sign approached and Morgan read it quickly as Randal rolled passed, the tires echoed hollowly on the bridge planks.

Beartooth Mountain hiking 2 miles

Holter Lake Boat Launch 5 miles

Recreation and Picnic area 6 miles

With a final scan to her surroundings, Morgan released the session and felt the cool pull as she returned to the small, rented cabin with Bryan, Claire and her brothers. They were all staring at her, though Dean and Bryan were both chewing bites of their breakfast burritos.

"They're leaving," she looked up into their waiting expressions and quickly told them everything she had just seen.

"So all the beaters were takin' off?" Dean asked.

"Yeah," Morgan nodded, "Still a few cars there, nice ones though, there was a truck that looked like Sherri's."

Sam and Dean nodded slowly at each other before the younger spoke, "Makes sense, the Duvals are loaded, imagine the rest of 'em aren't doin' bad for themselves if Phelan handpicked them for his A team."

"Wouldn't they technically be the B team?" Bryan asked with a smirk and Sam chuckled lightly in agreement.

"Sam," Dean got his brother's attention and jerked his head at the bathroom, "If you're done eatin' grab'a shower, I wanna get goin' on surveillance."

Sam hardened his expression at Dean, shoved a fistful of grapes in his mouth and stalked passed the oldest on the way to the bathroom, pulling his sweaty shirt off and tossing it on the pullout chair.

"Bitch," Dean growled.

"Jerk," Sam called, shutting the bathroom door harder than he needed to.

Dean picked up Sam's shirt with two fingers and dropped it on the floor, Morgan rolled her eyes behind him and tossed the shirt on Sam's couch as Dean poured himself another cup of coffee.

"You're next, kid," he told Bryan, "I'm not drivin' around with a gym bag."

Morgan and Claire scowled at him, but Bryan scoffed lightly and nodded, "Yes, sir."

After the runners had rinsed the sweat from themselves, they all piled into the Impala again, though, at Dean's insistence, Morgan sat between her brothers. Beyond it being roomier, she preferred the backseat for multiple reasons at the moment, but couldn't argue that she needed a better view to direct her brother the way she'd seen Randal driving. The Impala crunched slowly down the gravel path to the main road before accelerating with a powerful growl.

Dean had already looked at the map, but Sam and Morgan had Montana spread between them and were studying the roads, reminding the oldest of the upcoming turn several times.

"I know," Dean almost snapped, "Okay? I know where the hell I'm turning."

Beartooth Road wound further into the mountains and Morgan was in awe of the twisting road with steep cliffs, revealing the valley and forests below with a wide river snaking through. Glancing at Dean, his face was paler than usual and Morgan couldn't remember ever seeing him use both hands on the steering wheel.

A sign approached for the upcoming recreational and picnicking area and warned they were a mile from the boat launch.

"We're close," Morgan said.

"Few miles to the hiking trail," Sam confirmed.

Dean barely nodded and made a strange noise in the back of his throat.

He seemed to relax when they turned away from the road riddled with drop offs into the flattened field full of parked cars. Dean pulled the Impala into a spot in the back by large trucks and trailers, hiding the very individual sedan from view.

"Okay, kids," Dean pushed his door open with a creak, "Everybody got their hiking boots on?"

Sam popped the trunk lid and checked around to be sure they were alone before lifting the false bottom and handing a pistol to both Bryan and Claire, who shoved the weapons into the waistbands of their jeans, covering the handles with their shirttails. Dean pulled Morgan aside and leaned close to her ear.

"You stay close to me. Got it?"

"Yeah," she sighed, but a small squeeze on her arm corrected her response, "Yes, sir, I will."

"Claire," Dean jerked his head, "You're with me."

Doing her best to holdback an eyeroll, Claire stepped next to Dean as the group made their way towards the hiking path. Sam and Bryan were just behind her and Morgan found herself in the middle of the four gunmen, she understood the protection, but still didn't like having to turn to talk to Sam or Bryan, having relented the idea of conversing with Claire in case Dean interjected.

They were an interesting looking group in comparison to the few hikers they passed in athletic shorts and sneakers, though their jeans, flannels and boots didn't get too many sideways glances. Sam kept checking his phone and finally directed them off the main path into the woods, slipping down an incline quickly into thicker trees in case another group of hikers was approaching. Dean pulled Morgan to his side as soon as they reached level ground, she didn't fight him and he wasn't being rough, she tried to remind the indignant voice inside that his entire focus was to keep her safe.

It was much darker walking through the forest and at the sound of cracking branches, Sam, Dean, Bryan and Claire pulled their guns simultaneously. A squirrel scurried across the leaves and up a tree, making them all sigh and chuckle, but no one put away their weapon for a few minutes as the group continued at Sam's direction.

For a while, everyone was silent, observing the surroundings and trudging up and down the steep inclines of the mountain side. On one particularly treacherous upward climb, Morgan grabbed a branch to help pull herself up and it snapped from the trunk. Her stomach lurched as she fell backwards, remembering the rocks at the bottom, but her helpless descent was short lived as a strong arm caught her tightly around the waist.

Bryan smiled down, but his eyes were full of concern, glancing over his shoulder at Sam she could see the relief wash over him from the brief shock.

"Thank you," was all Morgan could manage, her whole body shaking in Bryan's one-armed embrace.

"Wouldn't let'cha fall," he assured her with an inconspicuous squeeze.

Sam stayed directly behind her the rest of the way up the incline, finally pulling themselves onto another momentary plateau before descending again. Morgan caught sight of something far ahead, through the trees of the next peak and pulled Dean by his jacket, pointing across the ravine to the high points of the cabin roof visible through the forest surrounding the proud structure.

"That's it," she told them.

"Thank God," Claire sighed with exhaustion, but groaned as Dean started descending the final steep hill, telling Morgan to stay right behind him, both girls rolled their eyes at each other before following.

The final incline didn't seem as rough as the last few, though Morgan reasoned she was just used to it now, and they arrived on top of the final peak as the sun was starting to shift lower in the Western sky over the snow-covered tops of the mountains. Dean put a finger to his lips and jerked his head for them to follow him through the trees.

It was a few minutes of extremely careful walking before Dean held his hand up and they all stopped in their tracks. He motioned for Sam to advance and the two snuck between thick trees, closer to the massive cabin. Morgan took a step towards her brothers, but felt something pulling her back by her jacket and turned to Bryan who shook his head at her with a more serious expression than she'd ever seen on his face, her stomach twisted similarly to when Dean scolded her, but fluttered like it did every time his handsome face was so close. He released his grip on her jacket, but Morgan stayed with her back pressed to his firm torso.

It was several minutes before footsteps crunching on the dried leaves and twigs could be heard, Bryan and Claire raised their weapons readily, but lowered them the moment Sam and Dean appeared through the thick trees.

The oldest said nothing, jerking his head back the way they'd come and the others followed in silence. When they'd reached the valley below again, Dean finally spoke.

"It's just the Betas and Phelan," he confirmed, "Looks like they're preparing for tonight."

"So, now what?" Claire asked.

"Now," Dean began, "we get you kids set up in the room while Sam 'n I get ready to hunt some wolves."

Morgan smirked at Claire's eyeroll, though she wondered if her friend had listened to any of the plan her brothers had run through several times.

The hike back to the Impala was exhausting. With the sun over the mountain peaks, they had to use their phone flashlights in the thicker parts of the woods before they reached the main path again. Hardly a word was spoken before they piled into the sedan and left the nearly empty, make-shift parking lot. Dean drove slower around the turns in the dark, but they eventually made it back to the cabin.

"A'right," Dean closed the door after they'd all entered, "You guys are stocked for munchies, we'll be back in a few hours."

"What's the freak out time?" Morgan asked.

"Don't," Dean shook his head, but sighed when his sister narrowed her eyes at him, "Check in occasionally, if we're not back by one you can be concerned."

She nodded curtly at him and Sam pulled her into his side with an encouraging shake.

"We'll be fine," he promised and she smiled back at him, though she never believed them when they made that promise.

"Claire," Dean jerked his head as he opened the door and the blonde followed him outside.

"Bet I know what that's about," Morgan rolled her eyes at Bryan who blushed a little, but Sam gave her another mild shake.

"Just be smart," he smirked at her, but eyed Bryan for a moment with a hard expression Morgan rarely saw on her understanding brother's face.

Claire and Dena returned to the room and a few minutes later the brothers left after several more reminders that they were all to stay put.

Morgan sunk into the couch and beckoned the remote with a lazy crook of her finger, smiling when Bryan joined her and tossed his arm over her shoulders. She handed him the remote and snuggled into his side, her whole body heating under the kiss he placed on her head. Claire, however, was not content with watching television and paced about the small room for an uncomfortable amount of time. She opened the refrigerator a few times without grabbing anything, walked in and out of the bedroom twice, went to the bathroom for much longer than it should reasonable take a person and finally returned to the main room, slamming the door behind her.

"Are you two seriously just gonna watch TV all night?" Claire scoffed, throwing herself in the chair.

"Got a better suggestion?" Morgan asked.

"Yeah," the blonde nodded, "We should be backin' them up!"

"You got a death wish?" Bryan chuckled.

"I can handle a werewolf," she crossed her arms indignantly.

"Yeah, it's not the wolves I'm worried about," Bryan told her.

"Look," Claire continued in a hard tone, "I'm not plannin' on them finding out we're even there, but if shit goes down four on five is better odds than two."

Bryan shrugged for lack of an argument, "Your math's not wrong, but they told us to stay here."

"They always tell us to stay here," the blonde smirked.

"How exactly do you expect us t'get there?" Bryan threw another hurdle at the resilient young woman.

"Quickly," Claire smiled mischievously and shifted her gaze to Morgan.

"What?!" the young witch exclaimed, "You're insane, you're fucking insane!"

"What, y'can't do it?" her friend challenged.

"Of course I can!" Morgan yelled indignantly, "But I won't!"

"You can?" Bryan asked with surprise.

Morgan turned to him, blinking slowly, "You're kidding, right?"

"Excuse me," he muttered.

"Let's do this, then," Claire clapped her hands together and jumped to his feet.

"I'm not doin' it Claire," Morgan shook her head, "if they were in trouble that'd be one thing."

"You don't know they're not," the blonde reasoned, leaving Morgan with a feeling of dread in the pit of her stomach.

For a few moments only the television could be heard, though no one was paying any attention to commercial for laundry detergent. Morgan's gaze found her crystals on the table and with an encouraging head nod from Claire, she crossed the room and sat down.

Her focus was torn for a moment between her brothers, knowing she could only focus on one at a time and decided to start with Sam, adjusting her crystals as she contemplated. Warmth hit her body as her vision blurred, the brightness of the cabin dimmed quickly as the outline of her tall brother and his long hair appeared before her. She felt relieved seeing Dean's frame in the darkness ahead, but, when her sight finally extended beyond the woods they were hiding in, a feeling of dread seared through her like the tower of fire in the near distance.

Morgan lost focus on her brothers as she stared at the roaring inferno ahead and the terrifying silhouettes of broad shouldered werewolves tossing huge logs on the already massive flames. The largest one stood with his hands on his hips watching the three others work, Phelan. She counted the others again. Three? Where was- snap, crack, whap!

A dark blur passed her vision, but an agonized yell unmistakably Dean reached her ears before she could focus on the werewolf that was attacking her oldest brother. Morgan screamed and felt her whole go ice cold as the dark forest went black around her.

She blinked her eyes, already full of tears and raised her head to look at Bryan and Claire's horrified faces.

"Dean," Morgan breathed with a shaky voice.

"What?" Bryan and Claire asked together.

"He got," her voice cracked and she shook her head from the awful image, taking a deep breath, "They need help."

Bryan grimaced briefly but looked at Claire who gave him a determined smirk and the young man nodded. Morgan's stomach twisted, hoping she really could teleport humans out of sight.

"You have to stay here," Bryan spoke finally and firmly, Morgan found herself a bit taken back by his tone and the seriousness in his face, but nodded her understanding.

"Of course she's staying here," Claire scoffed, "She can't transport herself."

"Not yet," Morgan shrugged.

"She's stayin' here 'cause she's safer here," Bryan scowled at Claire and the young woman shifted her gaze down a bit, "Because those monsters are after her."

"Yeah," Claire nodded, "I know."

"Okay then," his tone was still hard and he pulled the pistol from the back of his jeans, sliding the clip into his other hand and checking the bullets inside before jamming it back into place with a solid click.

The plan was made quickly, get Bryan and Claire to the patch of forest near the cabin they'd hiked to earlier, or as close to as Morgan could manage. She was shaking with nerves, but forced herself to hold resolve, unable to think of anything but the werewolf on top of her brother.

"Does this go one at a time?" Claire asked as they stepped into the middle of the small room.

"Yeah," Morgan nodded.

"I'd say ladies first," Bryan looked warily at the blonde, "but, uh, I'm goin' first on this one."

"I'd argue with you," Claire smirked, "but right now you remind me far too much of someone I lose most arguments to."

Bryan scoffed lightly when Morgan shrugged in agreement.

"You ready?" he asked the young witch.

"Are you ready?" she asked.

"Never gonna be," he grinned, "hit it."

Morgan took a deep breath and thought of nothing but the forest they'd stood in earlier and seen the cabin, the trees she was around, the grass and rocks, it was all she could see as she looked at Bryan with wide eyes, "Ŭtan!"

He was gone. Her stomach sank with nerves and as if Claire knew Morgan's next move before she did they rushed to the table. Morgan adjusted her crystals with shaking hands and focused all her energy on Bryan. Warmth had just started filling her veins when she felt relief wash over her, Bryan's outline clear as he used a tree to brace himself while getting to his feet. The fire much further from him than when she'd looked in on her brothers, much higher up the mountain and the massive flames licked the sky over the mess of trees. She shivered, letting go so quickly, and looked at Claire with a satisfied nod.

"My turn," the blonde grinned.

\--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Morgan paced the cabin nervously, she'd returned to her crystals after sending Claire, satisfied she'd gotten her friend within several feet of Bryan, but watching them hurry through the woods towards the very distant fire made her more nervous than walking uselessly around the room. Reasoning it would take them twenty minutes or so to reach where Sam and Dean had been and continued glancing at the clock, waiting for the ten minute marker she'd set for herself to expire.

Finally returning to the table, she was about to dip her head over the meticulously set crystals when a familiar, low, growling noise reached Morgan's ears. Her heart seemed to stop and race all at once as the engine cut and the Impala's front doors creaked open and slammed shut. She heard the low mumble of her brothers before the door opened and she stared with wide eyes at their bloody faces, though Dean had far more blood on him than Sam.

"You're okay," she breathed with relief, but her stomach twisted with nerves.

"Yeah, always," Sam scoffed, looking around the room as he opened the refrigerator for two beers, "Where are Bryan 'n Claire?"

Morgan just looked down, feeling the heat from Dean's stare boring into her skull.

"Morgan," her oldest brother growled and she glanced up at him.

"We thought you were in trouble," she whispered.

"Why?" his tone was incredulous, but trying to remain calm.

"I, uh, I looked in on you," Morgan stammered, "I saw you get jumped by that werewolf!"

"Did you see me shoot it?" Sam set both bottles down unopened and narrowed his eyes at her.

Morgan shook her head, she had missed that part obviously.

"Where are they?" Dean bit the words out slowly through gritted teeth.

"I teleported them to the forest we were in earlier," she admitted, finding a firm grip on her arm pulling her to her feet as Dean's other hand peppered her behind with hard swats, "Ahh, I'm s-sssorryyyy, I th-thought, w-we thought-"

"No, Morgan," he stopped and turned her to look at him, his green eyes flashing with anger, "No one thought, not a single one of you thought," on the final part of his proclamation he turned her again and emphasized each of the last five words with a stinging smack.

With teary eyes she looked at Sam, but his expression was hard as he shook his head slightly, silently expressing his disappointment, and Morgan sobbed.

Dean stopped again, but didn't release his grip on his sister, turning her back to look at him, "Pack your stuff, get Claire's, back here in two minutes."

"Y-yes, sir," she nodded and he released her towards the bedroom, landing another biting swat to her behind before she could scurry away.

Neither girl had unpacked their bags and Morgan just made sure to grab their phone chargers and toiletries before returning with both duffels to the main room. Sam took them from her without a word and walked outside just after Dean walked back in.

"Is that everything?" the oldest asked and was met with affirmation from both younger siblings.

Morgan found her upper arm once again in Dean's vice grip as he marched her towards the Impala, taking a moment every few steps to continue warming her backside with well-placed swats. The trunk slammed as Dean lurched open the backdoor and smack her bottom once more before Morgan could slide onto the worn leather, Sam sat in front of her, slamming his door without a word. Her stomach twisted with nerves, but a clear sense of relief was mixed in the torrent of anxiety, yes, she was in much worse trouble than she could have imagined, but Sam and Dean were safe. Her stomach dropped again thinking of Claire and Bryan in the woods, hurrying towards the bonfire.

Dean tore out down the gravel road and onto the paved highway, the Impala growling aggressively under his heavy foot as they raced back to Beartooth Road.

"I can't fucking believe you, kid," Dean slammed his hand on the steering wheel, "Those two could be in seven pieces if you messed up!"

"I didn't!" she yelled, lowering her voice when she felt the acceleration decrease quickly, "I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I didn't hurt them though, Claire wanted to back you guys up and I said no, but-"

"But what?!" Sam turned to her, his hazel eyes were icier than she'd ever seen and it sent a shiver down her spine.

"But I scried you," Morgan's voice broke with the tightness in her throat, "I s-saw-"

"One'a the Betas jump Dean without realizing I was behind him!" Sam barked, "How the hell are we supposed to trust you, Morgan, if you don't trust us?"

Her gaze dropped as tears filled her eyes and she sobbed, "I-I'm s-sor-ry, I w-was s-scared."

Sam turned towards the front and for several minutes the ride was silent as Dean barreled around the drop-off turns in the dark. When he passed the field they'd parked in earlier, Morgan wondered exactly how far he was going, but when he turned up a gravel road and crossed a wooden bridge she knew exactly where they were. The high-roofed cabin slowly came into view as they crunched up the steep incline and Dean threw the shifter into park in the empty driveway.

"You stay in this car or so help me," Dean growled at Morgan, but Sam stopped him with a tap to the shoulder and pointed out the windshield.

Two outlines were visible approaching the sedan and Morgan sighed, feeling a weight lift at the sight of Bryan and Claire unhurt. Dean kicked his door open and Sam followed, leaving both front doors open as they stalked towards the younger two.

"What happened?" Claire called, hurrying forward.

"What happened?!" Dean barked, making her stop in her tracks, but she was already too close to the oldest to avoid being pulled to his side and given five echoing smacks to the bottom of her jeans, "We did our goddamn job and now I'm back here because you two morons decided we're incapable of doing what we've done our entire lives!"

"Dean, I-" Bryan tried.

"You shut up!" Dean cut him off quickly, and loudly, "I can't fucking believe this! Get in the car! NOW!"

Claire wiped her eyes with the sleeve of her jacket and hurried to the driver's rear door, sliding in next to Morgan quickly as Bryan sat on her other side. Dean and Sam slammed their doors after dropping in the front seat and the oldest spun the Impala around quickly, powering down the road and sliding a bit on the gravel.

Morgan was sure she could see the steam coming out of Dean's ears as he drove in silence. Sam sat rigid in the passenger seat, equally irate. She glanced at Claire to her left, but her friend just stared at her hands in her lap, turning her head to her right, Bryan also had his head hung in shame.

When they came to the main road, Dean turned away from the cabin they'd recently vacated and accelerated angrily down the highway. There was no music, just the sound of wind rushing passed the sedan as they drove through the darkness.

After several miles, the Impala took an unexpected turn and Morgan found Claire pushing her into Bryan, before Dean screeched to a halt in the back of a large abandoned parking lot of a bus station. He pushed the driver's door open hard and Claire stiffened, Morgan felt her friend relax when her brother passed the rear driver's side door, moving around the trunk and wrenching the rear passenger door open, grabbing Bryan under his arm and yanking the young man from the backseat. Sam pushed out his door and the girls looked at each other in shock before returning their attention to the altercation outside as both doors slammed shut.

"Get y'r'shit," Dean's growl was muffled through the backdoor window they were standing feet away from, "there's a bus stop, get back t'Lebanon, Bess'll let'cha in for your car, and you hit the road."

"B-but, Dean," Bryan stammered, "please, I'm sorry, I'm really sorry, we screwed up, I screwed up, it'll never happen again, I swear-"

"I know," Dean nodded, "cause y'r'outta here kid."

"Dean," Sam interjected, "you can't just leave him, it's not safe, man."

"I'm leavin' him at a bus stop!" Dean barked.

"It's the middle of the night!" Sam challenged, "Look, I'm pissed too, trust me, but this isn't right! You gave Claire a second chance, hell she's had way more than two."

"Are you serious right now?" Dean squared his shoulders on his brother.

"Yeah," Sam nodded, "I am. 'Cause y'r'not gonna shove this kid outta the car when he's beggin' t'stay, it's not safe, man."

For a moment, the brothers stared each other down before Dean took a deep breath.

"Fine, you want me t'give him the same choice as Claire?" Dean scoffed and looked back at Bryan, "Bein' a part'a this team means playin' by my rules, 'n takin' the consequences if y'don't. You can grab y'r'shit 'n go wait for a bus, or you can agree that I'm in charge."

"Yes, sir," Bryan nodded eagerly.

"You say that kid, but the only way you're getting' back in that car is on a sore ass," Dean took a few steps back and Morgan saw her brother's hands drop to his belt before he disappeared from view in the rear passenger window.

Her stomach lurched, Dean couldn't be serious, but she knew he was. Claire didn't look at all surprised, though grimaced in solidarity. Bryan walked towards Dean out of view, but, glancing in the rearview mirror, Morgan could see both of them standing behind the trunk. Their voices were too low to hear, but she'd been on the receiving end of Dean's scolding enough to know his body language and the young man kept his eyes on the ground, nodding occasionally. She whimpered when Bryan lowered his jeans, revealing black boxer-briefs, and bent over the trunk lid, disappearing from view in the mirror.

Morgan couldn't believe what Dean was about to do as his belt raised and came down hard, a quiet grunt followed. Again, her brother lifted his arm and whipped the leather harshly across the young man's backside and a louder grunt reached her ears. Morgan put a hand over her mouth to cover a sob and Claire forced an attempt at an encouraging grin, wiping Morgan's cheek with her thumb, she hadn't realized she'd started crying. Another crack echoed and Bryan cried out, Morgan sobbed openly, leaning her head on Claire's shoulder, both their eyes fixed on the rearview mirror.

"I'm so-rry!" Bryan's broken voice sounded very close, but she refused to turn towards the back window.

She tried to count, but after eleven Dean still seemed to have no intention of stopping and she was crying harder than Bryan seemed to be, bawling with every pained wail behind her.

"Please!" Bryan begged, but Dean brought the belt down again and the plea was finished with a breaking cry.

The leather connecting on the thin fabric covering a very punished bottom continued, Dean's arm didn't seem to tire as he brought the belt down again and again. Morgan silently begged her brother to stop, whimpering with every hard whap she heard, unable to keep her eyes from focusing on the rearview mirror. Bryan was no longer hollering, but she heard a quiet, submissive sniveling, the sound of total acceptance of what was happening.

Finally, Dean's arm lowered. Morgan saw him pat Bryan on the back and the young man stood, wiping his face of tears and snot on his flannel sleeve before turning towards the oldest Winchester. Dean was threading his belt back into the loops, his words were too quiet to hear, but his face was far less angry and Bryan nodded. Morgan saw the strain in his shoulders as Bryan slowly dragged his jeans over his boxer-briefs, wiping his face again before following Sam's gesture back to the passenger rear door. Her brother lurched it open and clapped a hand on Bryan's shoulder as the young man gingerly slid onto the leather, unable to contain a sharp inhale, averting his damp, red eyes from both girls.

Morgan scowled in the rearview mirror as hard as she could while Dean dropped behind the wheel, their matching eyes met and his narrowed threateningly.

"If you wanna keep goin' now I'm on a roll," he growled and Morgan grudgingly lowered her gaze to her hands in her lap.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you enjoyed this! Love your feedback =)


	37. Chapter 37

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for the reviews! Wow, you guys rock! Very insightful comments and love to see how many are enjoying this story =)  
> This chapter's shorter and we're taking a quick break from the plot just because I'm someone who does occasionally enjoy stand alone spankings and that's basically what I'm doing in this chapter. So if you don't like the spanking and are here only for the plot, I'll have more for you very soon, but this chapter is entirely dedicated to those two headstrong, wayward girls getting their behinds tanned by everyone's favorite Sargent Psycho...
> 
> WARNING: CONTAINS SPANKING, LIKE SERIOUSLY, THAT'S ALL IT CONTAINS

The car remained silent for hours as the occupants of the backseat occasionally shifted on the worn leather. Morgan knew the slight sting in her behind would be much worse soon, Claire seemed to have the same understanding as she curled next to the door in an uncharacteristically submissive way. Bryan was clearly the most uncomfortable, but, besides the small movements and nearly inaudible, accompanying whimpers, he remained very still, gazing out the back window into the blackness.

As the sky faded to gray, Dean stopped at a motel, the same type he always found, and left the Impala idling after tossing the shifter in park.

"Girls," he growled, "help Sam with the bags, Bryan, stick around."

Morgan glanced at Bryan with sad, apologetic eyes, but after a forced smile and small nod from the young man, she followed Claire out of the car. Sam handed the girls their bags, slinging Bryan's, Dean's and his own over his shoulders and leading them silently to the room. He pushed the door open for the girls to walk in first and Morgan chanced a last glance at Bryan before Dean began backing the huge sedan out of the spot. Her stomach twisted and feet stalled from anxiety, but Sam's large hand on her back pushed her gently, yet firmly over the threshold.

"You two take that one," Sam pointed to the furthest queen bed in the room and set the duffel bags he was carrying on the other, his tone was hard, "Go to bed. Now."

Neither made any argument and quickly took turns in the bathroom, returning in their pajamas and curling up under the tattered blankets. Sam sat at the small table on the window on his laptop and Morgan stared at him from the bed, wishing he would look at her.

"Sam," she tried quietly.

"Bed, Morgan," he growled, his eyes remained fixed on the computer screen.

Her throat tightened and tears stung her eyes, so she shut them and tried to sleep. Hoping Bryan was alright and Dean hadn't decided to leave him on the side of a road without his stuff after the whipping the young man had endured. It had been a more than long day, her legs ached with exhaustion from their trek through the mountains and, despite the concerns swirling in her thoughts, she drifted into darkness as the sun began to rise out the window.

When she woke, sun was streaming through the window behind the thin curtains and the room was silent except for the sounds of light snoring. Sam was partially stretched out on the loveseat, his long legs dangling off the armrest made him look twice as large as usual. A small grunt caught her attention near the door and her stomach twisted a little seeing Dean sit up from the floor, wiping his face off exhaustion. If Dean was on the floor and Sam was on the couch, her gaze shifted to the bed next to her and felt relieved seeing Bryan's large form under the well-used blankets. Before her oldest brother caught her eyes open, Morgan closed them, pretending to still be asleep as she heard him shuffle around the small room.

A few minutes later, she heard a familiar, long yawn and knew Sam was stretching before pushing himself off the small couch.

"Mornin'," the younger brother grumbled.

"Mornin'," Dean answered, "You mind takin' Bryan to go grab breakfast when they're up?"

"Yeah," Sam agreed, "How long y'gonna need?"

"Half 'n hour or so," the oldest reasoned, Morgan's stomach twisted again, wanting to prolong that half hour as far as possible, "Speak'a the devil. How'd y'sleep, kid?"

"Not bad," Bryan's answer ended in a yawn.

"Doin' okay?" Sam asked.

"Yes, sir," his tone was light, there wasn't an ounce of harbored resentment, "I'm really sorry what I did."

"The way I understand it," Sam began, "you went along for the ride when those two started makin' their own plan," there was silence for a moment, "I get why you did what y'did Bryan, but your job wasn't to back us up, it was to protect them."

"Yes, sir," Bryan answered.

"He's good," Dean interjected with what Morgan thought sounded like pride in his voice, "Trust me, Bryan's a smart guy, he's got his head on straight now. Right?"

"Yes, sir," Bryan agreed firmly.

"A'right," Sam said, "You 'n I are gonna grab some grub, get'cher shoes on."

Morgan heard more shuffling and the toilet flush, a few minutes later the door shut and the room was quiet again.

"I know you're up," Dean growled and Morgan's gut sank, but she sat up against the headboard, seeing Claire do the same beside her, and faced the stern expression of her oldest brother, "So, here's what I understand happened last night, please, correct me if I'm wrong. Claire, you played on my sister's concern for us to get her to scry earlier than she should have-"

"I didn't-" Claire's interruption was short lived.

"Really?!" Dean was surprisingly calm, but his tone was incredulous, Claire dipped her head and he continued, "Yeah, that's what I thought, but Morgan, you know better, you both know better, but you, little girl, you 'n I have been over this crap time and again," she offered a small nod, keeping her eyes fixed on the blanket covering her knees, "I am done," she brought her gaze to his.

"Dean," she said softly and was surprised when he nodded in invitation to speak, stammering over her words, "I should have waited, I'm sorry, when I saw you get, get attacked, I got so scared, I let go, I didn't see, I should've looked again, I didn't think, I'm just really sorry."

"You didn't think, but," he shifted his gaze to Claire, "I can't imagine you wanted to allow much room for rationality. It was stupid Claire, what you three did, and for as much as that kid last night tried to convince me it was his idea, I'm not stupid and I know you far too well, that stunt had your name all over it blondie."

"Yeah," Claire nodded, "I'm sorry, I just-"

"Get antsy, can't stand you get left behind, crave the action and get so riled up knowing you're missing it y'can't think straight?" Dean offered with a strange smirk and the girls glanced at each other before Claire returned her attention to the oldest and nodded, "Yeah, I know the feeling, kid. Doesn't change the fact that you screwed up, but it does mean I've considered that we've taken you on a lot of hunts and lately have stuck y'back on the bench," Claire and Morgan stared at him with wide eyes as they listened intently, "What you asked her to do was stupid, you could've died, and Morgan how would you've dealt with that? Killing your best friend?"

Morgan's green eyes met with Claire's bright blue and she felt her throat tighten, tears already leaking down her cheeks, Claire wasn't immune to the emotions as a whimper escaped her lips and she threw her arms around Morgan.

"I wasn't thinking," Claire cried.

"No, I wasn't thinking," Morgan assured her sadly.

"We can all agree that not one of you were thinking," Dean brought their attention back to him, "And I think you can both agree that it's not fair for that kid to be the only one on this trip sittin' on a blistered ass," the girls nodded in silent agreement, "So, let's go," his pronouncement was met with fearful glances from both girls, "Hey, you're gettin' more privacy than Bryan did. Morgan, get your nose in that corner," she followed his finger to the far corner he was pointing at and looked back with the same fearful, shocked expression, "You act like children, you're gettin' treated like 'em, corner, now," she threw the blankets off and hurried to the indicated spot, "Claire, get your hairbrush."

"Dean," the blonde tried, Morgan's stomach turned in anticipation.

"Now," Dean growled.

"I don't have it," Claire said quickly.

"Just bought y'rself an extra five for lyin'," he informed her and Morgan heard the bedsprings creak.

For a minute it was quiet except for shuffling and the sound of a duffel bag being unzipped, Morgan kept her focus on where the faded wallpaper met in the corner, but couldn't block out the scene behind her.

"C'mere, Claire," Dean said, "Tell me where you went wrong."

"I ringleadered an operation against your orders," Claire responded meekly.

"You could've gotten Bryan and yourself hurt or killed," he continued, "And what was the plan once you'd gotten there? A junior hunter and a total rookie with those wolves?"

"It was stupid," Claire accepted.

"Very," Dean agreed, "I can understand if you haven't felt like a member of this team lately and I will try to remember you are capable, but you need to remember that I'm the boss and regardless of the orders you're given, you follow them. Understood?"

"Yes, sir," Claire mumbled.

"Pants," Dean demanded simply.

"But-" Morgan heard Claire try to resist, but the sound of fabric being shucked into a useless pile quickly preceded a loud smack and sharp inhale.

Her spine shivered, she'd never had to endure being so close while Claire was being punished, knowing she was next. The swats were even at first, picking up pace after a few and alternating the amount of power occasionally, with hardly a break between the assault, Morgan heard a change in the tone of the spanking when his hand began connecting on bare skin. Claire whimpered, groaned and a few yelps escaped her lips, but it wasn't until she heard a rapid fire of smacks, sure her brother was concentrating on where Claire's bottom merged to her thighs, that her friend's heavy breathing broke into sobbing pleas.

After a minute, the smacking stopped, but the silence was interrupted by Claire's heartbreaking beg, "No, please, Dean, please, please, NOOOO!"

Her appeal was finished with the solid crack of wood on the blonde's vulnerable backside, Claire screeched as it landed again and Morgan cried quietly, feeling awful for the pain her friend was in and anxious for what she was about to receive. Again, the brush landed and Claire cried out in agony, trying to catch her breath before the next hard smack found its mark on her punished bottom.

"I'm sor-ry!" Claire screamed, "Nev-never again! Plea-EASE!"

"You gonna lie to me anymore either?" Dean's question was as hard as the spanking he was delivering.

"No, SIR!" she promised, expelling a broken shriek as the brush connected again.

With the finally begging cry, Morgan heard Claire whimper, sobbing acceptingly behind her as the swats slowed and eventually stopped. Besides the heavy breathing of Claire trying to calm herself, the room was quiet again until Dean spoke.

"You're gonna be a great hunter someday, Claire," he told her, "But you're not gonna make it that far if y'don't start followin' orders. I do this because I care, but I'm only gonna have this conversation with you so many times. You don't like bein' treated like a little kid so start actin' like an adult, act like the part of this team you wanna be. Okay?"

"Yes, sir," Claire sounded firmly chastised in her muttered response.

"Morgan," Dean called and as she turned around she saw her brother jerk his head in a silent order for Claire to take over the post in the corner.

For a moment, Morgan thought her friend would refuse, but she retreated with a sad smirk and stuck her nose where the ugly wallpaper joined together. With her brother towering over her, the wooden hairbrush lying threateningly on the bed and Claire only feet away, sniffling in the corner, Morgan's stomach turned worse than it had the entire morning.

"Why are we here?" he asked.

"Because I didn't listen," Morgan forced the words out despite her lips quivering, "I did something dangerous and stupid that could've hurt my friends, be-cause," she couldn't hold back a sob as the image of Dean getting jumped by the werewolf flashed in her mind again, Morgan instinctually put her arms around herself in craved comfort, but only a second later Dean pulled her into a tight embrace and placed a gentle kiss on her hair.

"I love how much you care, Sweetie," he whispered, "but you need to reign in your emotions and trust that your brothers know what they're doin', most of the time," she scoffed lightly and looked up at his matching eyes as he released her, "You put your friends, and yourself, in unnecessary danger and you know better than to act on impulse, right?"

"Yes, sir," she nodded.

"So how do you fix this?" he asked.

"You spank me," Morgan mumbled sadly.

"No," Dean couldn't help a small chuckle, but his expression remained stern, "I'm spanking you 'cause you screwed up and for the next few days you're gonna think about how bad you screwed up every time you sit down. But you are the only one who can fix your compulsiveness, so you need to think about how you're gonna do that, how you're gonna remind yourself in those situations to take a deep breath and think rationally before making an impulsive move."

"Yes, sir," she agreed.

"Drop 'em," he ordered as he sat on the bed.

Morgan fumbled with shaky hands, but pushed her sweatpants to her knees and found herself immediately pulled across Dean's knee, his other leg securing behind her calves, and she turned her head on the mattress away from Claire standing in the corner. She was determined to remain at least as stoic as her friend had, but when the first hard smack landed on her backside, Morgan knew she'd be a crying mess in a matter of moments. Another stinging swat landed and she dug her fingernails into the blanket to keep from throwing her hands back, the tears started, but she bit her lip on the sobs that tried to escape.

Dean was clearly intent on making an impression and she felt him shift her a bit, her bottom higher in the air as quickly dragged her underwear to her knees and peppered the undercurve of her bottom with fast, hard smacks.

"I-I'm sooo so-rry! Deee!" Morgan screeched when the inferno he was creating on the tops of her thighs deepened.

His hand stilled, but Morgan's stomach swirled with fearful anticipation as she felt him turn a bit and whimpered loudly when the cool wood of the hairbrush rested on her burning behind. There was no point begging him not to, she knew there was no stopping it and admitted to herself it was well deserved, bracing for the first swat.

"NOOOOO!" she couldn't help the screech as the brush connected on one cheek and Dean tightened his grip around her waist as he brought the awful implement down again.

Morgan couldn't think straight, her mind absorbed with the pain in her backside as she shrieked and kicked over her brother's knee. He was relentless with the heavy brush, concentrating as always on the sensitive area where her thighs and bottom met, one sharp smack after another until Morgan's incoherent cries became compliant sniveling and her feet stilled on the floor. She didn't realize the spanking was over until Dean's punishing hand was rubbing her back calmly, her underwear already back around her hips.

"I'm so sorry," she sobbed as he turned her in his lap and threw her arms around his neck, crying into his flannel as he held her.

"I don't wanna hear sorry," Dean told her, "I wanna know you're gonna do better."

"I will," she promised earnestly.

"Good," he kissed her forehead and patted her thigh gently, "We're headin' home soon, get dressed, both'a you."

Claire turned away from the corner instantly.

"Guy's will be back soon with breakfast," he told them, "be quick."

"Yes, sir," they both mumbled and Dean left the room.

Claire picked her brush off the bed and left for the bathroom, mumbling under her breath, "I'm burnin' this fuckin' thing."

Morgan smirked, wiping tears from her cheeks and rubbing her sore bottom, alleviating exactly none of the throbbing pain.

The girls dressed slowly, both finding their tight jeans extraordinarily uncomfortable to drag over their soundly punished behinds. A knock sounded on the door just as they were packing their toiletries back into their bags.

"Yeah," both girls called and Sam opened the door, carrying a box of donuts, followed by Bryan with a to-go tray of coffee and Dean, already sipping one of them.

"Sam," Morgan stepped timidly towards her brother and was met with his still stern expression, "I should've looked again, I'm sorry I didn't use my head, I knew you were there, I don't know why I doubted you guys."

"I appreciate that, Morgan," he nodded curtly, "but you 'n I are still gonna have a one-on-one when we get home."

Her stomach twisted again and her bottom throbbed harder with anticipation of another punishment, "Like, talk or are you gonna," her words trailed off and heat flushed her cheeks from humiliation.

"I haven't decided yet," he informed her, making the swirl in her gut worse.

"But Dean just-" Morgan stopped herself at the threatening eyebrow raise Sam gave her.

"With as many times as we've had this same conversation it might do y'some good to go over it again," his comment was hard and Morgan dropped her gaze and nodded sadly.

After an awkward breakfast, the group piled back into the Impala and Dean accelerated South down the highway, all the passengers of the backseat quietly shifted in useless attempts to relieve the pain in their bottoms for the several hours it took them to get back to the bunker.


	38. Chapter 38

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for the great reviews! 
> 
> So glad the last chapter was well received, guess a stall in the story isn't the worst thing I could do as long as there's a double header spanking involved, right? lol I'm happy so many enjoyed it and we're climbing back up hill again in the plot so prepare for a bit more talk than action and a lot of characters to be rollin' through.
> 
> The Banes Twins have been introduced a total of twice in season 12 and Asa Fox for only a 45 second montage, so I really had to elaborate on these characters from very little, not to mention set them up in this story how it needs to flow, let me know if you think I could've portrayed them differently or y'know if I did good that'd be nice to hear too ;)

It was late afternoon when they reached the country road leading to the bunker and Morgan caught sight of a black Jeep hidden in the bushes near the front entrance as Dean pulled around to the cave entrance. As soon as he threw the shifter in park the occupants of the backseat carefully hurried to remove their blistered behinds from the unforgiving leather.

"You two," Dean pointed at Bryan and Claire, "put'cher stuff in your rooms and meet me in the gym in ten minutes."

"You," Sam pointed at Morgan, "come with me."

Claire offered a grimace, but Morgan shrugged sadly, knowing there was no getting out of whatever Sam had planned. The hallway felt shorter than usual and they were in the open room well before Morgan would've wanted to be, but, for a moment, forgot her appointment with Sam for her surprise at the amount of people in the library.

Bess sat on the armchair with Channing asleep on her lap, giggling with a bearded man who was sitting on the table with his feet on a chair and a beer in his hand, a dark-haired girl about Morgan's age was skimming the bookshelves and a young man was examining one of the Men of Letter's spell books, sitting on the stairs under the telescope.

"Sam, Dean!" the bearded man raised his beer at them and hopped off the table.

"Fox, y'made it," Dean smiled, dumping his duffel bag on the map table.

"Got in a couple hours ago," he told them, shaking Sam and Dean's hands, "These are my kids, Alicia and Max."

"Hey, guys," Sam's tone was much lighter and Morgan hoped the distraction of visitors would keep his attention from her.

"Hi," the teenage siblings mumbled together as the approached the stairs.

"Bess, they givin' you any trouble?" Dean smirked at the werewolf carefully getting off the arm chair with her sleeping son on her shoulder.

"Man," Fox scoffed happily, "if all werewolves were this sweet 'n pretty I'd've gotten bit myself."

Bess giggled, shaking her head as she walked down the stairs, "We've had a good visit, I was just going to put Channing down and start on some dinner."

"Oh honey," Fox smirked, "you're makin' me fall in love, that husband'a yours is gonna have to fight me for you if you start spoilin' me."

Bess giggled again, exiting towards the kitchen, but Morgan saw Alicia and Max roll their eyes at each other behind their father.

"I'm takin' these two in the gym for some drills," Dean jerked his head towards Bryan and Claire, "You're welcome to join us."

"Yeah, that sounds good," Fox agreed, finishing his beer in one gulp, "Kids?"

"Like running?" Alicia asked, glancing at her brother.

"Some," Dean nodded.

"I'm good," the girl shook her head.

"How 'bout you Max?" Fox asked.

"Why?" the young man scoffed and hardened his gaze on the group, trying to look threatening, "I'm a witch."

"So?" Dean challenged and the surprise in the young man's expression was clear, he'd obviously expected a different response to that information.

"How y'gonna get away if you can't fight?" Morgan asked suddenly, unable to hold back the question to the seemingly arrogant young witch.

"Not gonna happen," the young man lifted his chin.

"Yeah, right," Morgan nodded sarcastically.

"Why can't I fight?" Max took a step towards her.

"Lots'a reasons," she took a step towards him, "Ever heard of constraints that block magic? Or what happens when the spell you use gets interrupted? How 'bout just bein' in over your head and knowin' it's better to run?"

"I'd never run," he assured her bitterly.

"Then y'r'an idiot," she said simply.

The room went quiet and Morgan realized everyone's eyes were on her and Max, only a foot from each other and scowling.

"Well, uh," Sam shook his head, "Fox, Alicia, Max, this is our sister, Morgan."

Fox smiled and held out his hand, "Morgan, it's great t'meet you, please don't mind my son, but thank you for that, maybe he'll listen to you."

Max rolled his eyes at the smirk Morgan gave him.

"C'mon, guys," Fox turned to his children, "let's take a look."

"Only if I can practice some of these spells," Max lifted the book under his arm a bit and Morgan quickly crooked a finger, flying the massive texts to her hands, forcing herself not to laugh at the shock on Max's face.

"That's what I'll be doin'," she shrugged and walked towards her bedroom with Claire and Bryan, the three of them exploding into laughter as soon as they reached the hallway.

Her amusement was stifled quickly when a knock sounded on her open door and she turned to see Sam shut it on his entrance.

"Sam, please," she began begging immediately, "I'm sorry, I really am, please just wait, please, not now," Morgan was sure she would die of embarrassment if their visitors heard her getting spanked by Sam, especially after that display of confidence in front of Max.

"Morgan," he sighed and crossed the room, pulling her into his arms to stop the sudden panic, "Sweetie, listen, I was all ready to come home and lecture your ear off, maybe warmed your ass a little myself," she blushed and looked down, but he pulled her chin up with a finger to look at him, "but then I heard you talkin' to that kid, and I couldn't be prouder, I hope you meant every word you said. Believe me, you're still on my shit list for that stunt, but what I heard you say out there, well, maybe somethin's gettin' through."

"It is," she nodded with a small smile.

"I've still got my own punishment to hand out, though," he said and Morgan pouted, "Teleportation is not a game, there are serious consequences if it's done incorrectly. Before dinner tomorrow I want a three-page paper from you on the principles of teleportation, the necessary factors to do it right, what causes it to go wrong and what can happen when it does. Understood?"

"Yes, sir," Morgan nodded, relieved he wasn't going to put her over his knee.

"A'right," Sam pulled her by the back of the neck and planted a kiss on her hair, "C'mon, let's go show this kid what real magic looks like."

"Sam," she didn't let go of his shirttail as he turned to leave and wrapped her arms around his middle, "I really didn't mean to screw up like that, I just saw, never mind, just, I really am sorry and you guys need to know Bryan didn't do anything."

"We know," Sam assured her, "but he should have," she gave him a questioning look, "Bryan has a problem I've learned to live with, but he still needs to," her confusion deepened between her eyebrows, "He's wrapped around your finger, little girl."

"No, he's," Morgan stopped when Sam smirked and shook his head.

"Morgan," Sam began seriously, "Dean 'n I have both been teenage boys, we're not stupid. But Bryan is a good kid, probably one of the best I've met in a long time, trust me, if Dean and I weren't both hugely impressed he wouldn't've been welcome here more than two days. He has a lot to learn though and you need to consider what kind of influence you're being on him."

She nodded her understanding, but Sam cocked an impatient eyebrow, nearly identical to their older brother, and she corrected her response, "Yes, sir, I understand."

"Good girl," Sam smiled and opened the door to leave.

Claire and Bryan were already in the gymnasium when Morgan entered, she was sure the laps they were running weren't enjoyable for either of them in their current situation, but both pushed along the track regardless. Unsure who challenged who, Fox and Dean were in a well-matched sparing duel on the mat and Sam had started showing Alicia the obstacle course. Away from her brother, the young woman seemed a bit more enthused about the available activities. Max approached Morgan as she walked in with the spell book in her arms.

"So, you think you know somethin' about magic?" his question was hardly less arrogant than his earlier tone.

"I know a little about a lot," she said vaguely, earning a half-smile from the young man.

"Our Mom taught me," he said proudly, but Morgan heard the sadness in his voice, "she was a great witch."

"I'm sorry," Morgan bowed her head a bit at him and Max nodded in acceptance, "My Mother taught me too, she was, well one of the best."

"Can you scry?" he asked.

"Of course," she shrugged, "Can you?"

"Yeah," Max scoffed a bit, "My powers showed up pretty early, I was thirteen, Alicia doesn't have any."

"Oh," Morgan glanced at the young woman talking to Sam across the room, she wasn't sure if she was sad or jealous and wondered if she would've felt the pull of magic so strongly if it hadn't always been a part of her.

"How 'bout you?" he asked.

"Me what?" Morgan's attention returned to the tall male witch.

"When did your powers start showin' up?" sparks flew from his fingers for emphasis of the question.

"Oh, I, uh," she wasn't sure what the appropriate answer to give was and decided vagueness was the best option, "fairly recently."

"You learn fast huh?" he smiled.

"Guess so," she nodded, grinning as Bryan and Claire jogged passed them, though the handsome young man's eyes were trained hard on Max.

"That your boyfriend?" Max muttered when the runners were out of earshot.

"I don't know," Morgan giggled lightly.

Max wasn't as bad as she thought after they talked a bit more, he was very quick to pick up spells and Morgan enjoyed teaching him a few of the ones she had mastered over the last week.

"Seriously," he shook his head after successfully teleporting a dumbbell onto the weight rack, "you only got your powers recently?"

"Sort'a," Morgan shrugged, "it's a long story, trust me I'm still learnin'," she flipped a few pages and stopped on the one she'd been having particular difficulty with, "For the life of me, I can't conjure a guinea pig!"

Max chuckled, "Are you trying to make it out of thin air?" Morgan looked at him blankly, "Well, there's your problem. I can't do it yet, but my Mom could make birds outta coffee mugs and shit."

Morgan stared at him, but her mind was racing with the words he'd just spoken, slowly bringing her gaze to the open spell book and as if the final piece made the whole puzzle clear, she understood. Focusing on the dumbbell Max had recently teleported and thought how much prettier birds were than guinea pigs.

"Immatare avem!" a stream of purple shot from her fingers and a moment later a falcon soared towards the high ceiling, wings wide as it circled the large room.

Everyone stopped and watched the majestic bird glide around the room before it came to a stop on a rafter, observing the onlookers below with a proud, disinterested turn of its head.

"That," Max expelled a breath, "was, amazing."

"Thanks," Morgan tried to suppress a smile, but when her eyes met Max's it widened unintentionally, his eyes were the color of honey.

"How'd you do that?" Bryan asked with excitement.

"Max helped me see what I was doing wrong," she smiled from one boy to the other, their eyes slowly found each other and their joy faded into silent tension.

"Awesome," Dean nodded at the bird and then looked at his sister, "Change it back before that thing starts droppin' presents all over my gym."

"I think it's pretty," Claire commented proudly.

"He is," Sam agreed with a pleased grin, "Very cool, Morgan."

As she looked at the beautiful predator, another thought came to mind, a type of magic she wasn't sure she could still perform. It had been a long time since she'd been in such close proximity to an intelligent animal and focused on the falcon's beady eyes up in the rafters, grinning with satisfaction when he turned his feathered head towards her.

'Welcome. Do you understand me?'

'Of course,' the falcon cocked his head, 'Thank you, I'm not sure what this is,' his head turned both ways, 'or what you and the rest of the ones like you are, but I'm sure it's better than whatever I wasn't before.'

'Yeah, probably,' Morgan nodded, not noticing the entire room was watching the silent conversation in complete awe, 'So, you're good staying a bird?'

'If that's what I am, I suppose I would like to stay this way if the other option is nothingness,' the falcon offered a small downward motion of his beak.

'Do you have a name?' she inclined her head at the bird and he soared from the rafters, landing on the monkey bars beside her.

'Name?'

'What would you like me to call you?' she grinned.

'What would you like to call me?' his feathered head turned nearly ninety-degrees.

'Elsu,' Morgan told the falcon, 'I'd like to call you Elsu.'

'Then I am Elsu,' he agreed, 'What do I call you?'

'Morgan,' she pointed to herself and moved her finger about the circle that had closed around them, 'those are my brothers, Sam and Dean, my friends Claire and Bryan, Mr. Fox and his kids, Max and Alicia.'

'Can they all speak to me how you can?' Elsu's feathers ruffled a bit as he looked around the group a few times.

'No, just me,' she gave him an assuring grin.

'Good,' his feathers smoothed, 'I've already forgotten most of their names.'

Morgan giggled, 'It's alright. Can I take you outside,' again Elsu inclined his head, 'You'll like it, I promise,' she nodded and extended her arm for the falcon to glide gracefully onto her blue jacket sleeve, his talons stabbing through the fabric a bit, but nothing unbearable.

"Um, Morgan," Sam broke her trance, "What's happening?"

"This is Elsu," she told them.

"You can't name it!" Dean sighed in frustration, "Change it back."

"There's a hundred weights over there," she implored, "You're not gonna miss one twenty-five pounder."

"You can't keep a bird in here," Dean continued as she left the gymnasium with Elsu on her arm, everyone followed.

"That's why I'm taking him outside," Morgan said, inhaling sharply at the stabbing in her arm from one of Elsu's claws and saw the bird's feathers ruffled when she returned her attention to him, focusing again on his eyes as she walked down the familiar corridor, 'Sorry, my brother distracted me.'

'Where are we? I liked the other place better,' Elsu looked around almost frantically, 'It's much smaller here.'

'I know, this place is a maze,' she grimaced a little, 'Just hang on, we'll be there soon.'

As they rounded the corner towards their bedrooms, Bess was giggling with Channing, pretending to chase him from the kitchen as he shrieked with delight, Elsu, however, did not find the scene charming. Morgan winced as his talons dug further into her skin, sure there was blood under her jacket, his feathers ruffled a bit and, in a moment, Channing caught sight of the winged predator and his attention diverted.

"Biree!" he hurried forward on wobbly little legs, his arms stretched upward and an awful shrieking sound erupted from his lips.

Elsu flapped his wings in anger or fear, Morgan wasn't sure as she was repeatedly whapped in the face.

'Hey, hey,' she put a hand protectively over the falcon's chest and his wings stilled.

'What, is, that?' Elsu's beady eyes narrowed at Channing as Bess pulled him away with apologies.

'A child,' Morgan simplified her answer, unsure if Elsu would even understand that, 'He's harmless, you're going to be fine.'

That seemed to calm him as they continued their trek through the hallway, into the open room and, because it was more convenient, Morgan carefully climbed the spiral stairs and Dean held the door open for her to exit up the front steps.

'Outside?' Elsu looked around the open country.

'Yes,' she nodded.

'Yes,' the falcon returned her nod, 'I like this much more.'

'You can always visit me,' she hoped he would.

'Morgan,' he flapped his wings, releasing the hard grip on her arm, 'Yes, perhaps I might.'

And with that the huge bird took flight and was above the trees in moments.

"That was incredible!" Claire jumped and grabbed her friend by the shoulders, shaking her with excitement.

"Were you talking to it?" Bryan's gaze switched between Morgan and the sky until Elsu disappeared.

"Yeah," she nodded, "I wasn't sure if I still could."

"Guess y'can," the handsome young man smiled proudly.

"Can you teach me that?" Max stepped forward quickly.

"Which part," Morgan giggled.

"All of it," he said eagerly, "You're really amazing."

Morgan felt heat on her cheeks, trying to stifle the huge grin on her face from the storm of compliments.

"Can we not have a zoo runnin' around?" Dean's tone was amused and Morgan caught a half-smile from her brother and knew he was proud of her, "And don't go settin' all my free weights off into the world with goofy names."

"Elsu, isn't goofy," she returned his teasing, "It's Norse for flying falcon."

"Aren't you creative," Dean chuckled and Morgan pushed her brother playfully.

"Hey, Fox," Sam jerked his head at the brush, partially hiding a black Jeep, "S'that your car?"

"Yeah," he nodded, "I gotta change the oil before we leave."

"Pull her in the garage," Dean jerked his head down the road, "I gotta look my Baby over a bit too."

"Can I help?" Bryan asked.

"Yeah," Dean agreed immediately, "I could use a second pair'a hands, be a nice change that y'know what you're doin'."

Sam rolled his eyes at his brother, but shrugged in acceptance before patting Fox on the shoulder and walking towards the Jeep, "I'll show you through the maze."

"This place is a freakin' labyrinth, man," Fox chuckled, pulling his keys from his jacket.

Dean turned back down the stairs, followed by Claire and Alicia, as Bryan took a few steps towards Morgan and leaned close to her ear.

"That was incredible," the heat of his breath sent shivers down her spine, "You're incredible."

Their faces were close as she turned to him with a wide smile of gratitude from his compliment, though mostly motivated by the proximity of space in which he gave it, but before she impulsively lifted onto her toes to meet his lips with hers, she caught Max out of the corner of her eye.

"Wanna keep going on some of those spells?" he grinned hopefully.

"I, uh," glancing at Bryan, Morgan saw his expression had completely changed in those few moments, "later, I gotta start a paper for Sam on teleportation."

"Cool," Max nodded, "Mind if I read over your shoulder? I've learned more in the last couple hours than the last few months, y'know, since my mom."

Morgan nodded sadly, "Yeah, sure, of course."

Bryan didn't take his hand off the small of her back as they walked back in the front door.

Morgan and Max sat at a table in the library, Alicia and Claire had refused joining the study session and were talking animatedly on the arm chairs. Max found Morgan's reading speed as impressive as most did, but she found it difficult to read anywhere near as fast as she could with him interrupting her every few minutes. Regardless, in the little less than an hour they'd been in the library, she'd managed a list of important factors and principals in teleporting. A rather gruesome sketch of a man's limbs ripped into various, alternate dimensions had made Morgan's bottom throb, thankful nothing had happened to Bryan or Claire, but guilt swirled in her gut with the reminder that she shouldn't have done it without proper understanding of the possible consequences.

"How's that paper comin'?" Sam asked as he walked into the open room with Fox, both sipping beers, the latter's shirt was covered in grease and the hand around his bottle was nearly black.

"Workin' on it," Morgan responded.

"Max, don't bother her if she's gotta get somethin' done," Fox said.

"He's not," Morgan called at the same time Max sighed, "I'm not."

Loud laughter interrupted the mostly quiet room as Bryan and Dean emerged from the hallway towards the garage, both covered in grease and in a fit of amusement, Morgan couldn't help staring in shock.

"No way!" Dean shook his head in disbelief.

"I swear t'God, man," Bryan nodded, "Whole tranny just dropped mid race, coasted like twen'y feet before he realized it was behind him."

"After talkin' all that shit?" Dean laughed harder when Bryan nodded.

"Oh, good, you're all here," Bess peeked out of the other hallway, "Dinner's ready."

Everyone followed the delicious smell as the members of the group not covered in grease made their way into the kitchen, Dean and Bryan were still chuckling as Fox followed them down the hall. Channing wobbled quickly up to Sam with chubby outstretched arms and the tallest Winchester grinned as he bent down to pick up the tiny werewolf and set him on his hip.

"Hi," Channing waved his hand close to Sam's face.

"Hey, buddy," he chuckled, "Easy on the hair, alright?"

"It smells great, Bess," Morgan smiled.

"Pork chops, mashed potatoes and sautéed spinach," Bess pointed at the steaming pots and pans on the stove in turn.

"Wow," Sam said surprised, "Bess, thank you, but you really don't have to."

"I like to," she shrugged, relenting the stack of plates in her hands to Morgan who started setting the table.

"Can I help?" Alicia offered.

"Yeah, here," Morgan handed her the plates, "I'll grab some glasses."

Claire followed behind Alicia with silverware and Morgan set a few glasses on the table, confident Fox and her brothers would each have a beer with dinner. Max leaned against the coffee station, swiping his finger on his phone screen.

"Thanks girls," Sam nodded, turning his attention to Channing he asked with a goofy grin, "Y'wanna fly?"

Channing giggled and nodded excitedly, screeching with joy when Sam's long arms extended above him and the little boy threw his arms out like wings. Morgan wondered where Elsu had gotten to, sure the falcon was enjoying his new existence soaring above the trees.

"So, you race that thing?" Fox asked as he, Bryan and Dean entered the kitchen.

"Used to," Bryan nodded, "Mmm Bess, is that bacon?"

"I sautéed the spinach in bacon fat," she said while setting the pan of pork chops on the table.

"Yep," Fox chuckled, "Garth is definitely gettin' a run for his money."

Morgan saw Bess giggle and blush a bit, lifting the lid from the mashed potatoes and shoving a serving spoon in the pot.

Channing insisted on sitting next to Sam and Morgan forced a neutral expression as she lowered her backside gently onto the hard seat. Max slipped onto the chair next to her as Claire sat on the other side and Morgan caught Bryan scowl before rolling his eyes and pulling out the chair across from them, Dean sat next to him and clapped the young man on the shoulder.

"Never gotten a brake job done faster," Dean said proudly, "Sam, y'r'officially fired from helpin' me."

"Thank God," Sam scoffed.

"An' you rebuilt that Grand National?" Fox asked.

"Yes, sir," Bryan nodded, "Took a few years, lot'a time searchin' around scrap yards, but it was worth it."

"Hell yeah," Fox chuckled, lifting his beer in salute before taking a sip, "There's not a lot'a those out there, Buick made one car right."

"Buick?" Max scoffed, "That's like the cars old people drive, right?"

"Yeah," Fox nodded, "but the Grand National's a turbo two-door, nothin' like the rest'a the Buick line."

"Sure," Max rolled his eyes.

"What'd you drive?" Bryan asked a little bitterly.

Dean dipped his head, but Morgan saw his shoulder shaking a little with the laugh he was trying to hide as Max scowled at Bryan. Fox smirked and shook his head, taking another sip of his beer.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Love to know what you think! Please leave me a review or a kudos :) Makes my day!


	39. Chapter 39

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Things are heating up... just not in the plot quite yet ;)

Dinner finished and Morgan insisted on doing the dishes, Claire offered her assistance a little grudgingly and Alicia just started taking plates to the sink as her brother continued sitting at the table on his cell phone.

"You girls got this?" Dean asked, getting up from the table.

"Yeah," Morgan nodded, taking his plate and stacking it on hers and Sam's.

"Can we do some work on the vampire problem?" Fox asked, grabbing a few more beers from the refrigerator.

"That's the plan," Dean nodded, "Sam, Bryan, let's go."

Morgan couldn't miss the small grin that crossed the handsome young man's face briefly as he dumped his plate in the sink and followed Dean.

"Max c'mon," Fox jerked his head as the Winchesters and Bryan left the kitchen.

"Why?" he shrugged, not looking up from his phone.

"It's what we do, kid," Fox sighed, Morgan felt the tension between them and assumed Fox and his children had not known each other long, he seemed to be trying very hard to not upset them.

"It's what you do," Max looked up with a challenging expression, "Mom never got us involved in her shit."

Morgan was confident in her original assumption when Fox dipped his head and responded calmly to the disrespect from his son.

"Your Mom didn't get involved in stuff like this," he admitted, "but it's what I do, Max, I'm sorry if y'don't don't like it, but you could really help me out if y'wanted to."

"If I wanted to," Max agreed curtly and didn't move from the table.

"A'right, well, you know where to find us," Fox shrugged, "Girls, you joining the party?"

"We'll be right there," Morgan assured him with a smile, feeling bad for the kind, bearded man.

"This is gonna take forever," Alicia sighed, dropping a few glasses in the sink filling with soapy water.

"Naw," Morgan giggled, "watch this," she focused on the full sink of dirty dishes and rubbed her hands together vigorously, "Mundabit!"

The brush hopped into action, diving under the bubbles and started scrubbing a plate, with a finger, Morgan coaxed the plate above the water, rinsing the bubbles and made a circle with her finger for the plate to spin. Water flew around the kitchen before the clean and dry plate set itself gently on the counter.

"Okay, my drying could use some work," Morgan giggled, wiping water from her cheeks along with Alicia and Claire.

"Yeah," her friend shook her head, "I'll dry the old-fashioned way. Is that a new spell?"

"Kinda," Morgan shrugged, continuing her magic on the next dirty plate, "It's not really what it's intended for, but I figured it would work."

"That's really cool," Max interjected, "That you try spells out how they're not supposed to be used."

"Thanks," she shrugged with a humble smile, unsure how else to respond.

"Do you guys have a TV with Netflix?" Alicia asked, leaning against the counter, "I'm binging Shameless, but watchin' it on my phone sucks."

"I heard that's a good show," Claire commented.

"You haven't seen it?!" Alicia exclaimed, "It's awesome, watch it with me!"

"Yeah, alright," Claire said and inclined her head at Morgan who shrugged with indifferent agreement.

"Sam'll prob'ly let us use his room," Morgan told them, grabbing a towel and helping Claire dry the last few freshly rinsed dishes floating over the sink.

Max reluctantly followed the girls to the library where Sam, Dean, Bryan and Fox were standing around a table with the list of victims and a large map with lines drawn randomly across a few states.

"Hey, Sam?" Morgan's tone was sweet, how she always asked Sam for things, "Can we watch a show in your room?"

"What show?" he asked.

"Shameless," Alicia told him.

Sam expelled a short laugh and shook his head at his sister, "No, you're not watchin' that."

"Why not?" Alicia scoffed.

"Hey, Alicia," Fox sounded like he was attempting to scold his daughter, but it was short lived as she raised her dark eyebrows challengingly.

"It's a good show," Max implored to Sam.

"I've seen it," he nodded, "That's why I'm sayin' no."

"Is that the one with William H Macy as an alcoholic father?" Dean asked.

"Yeah," Sam nodded.

"Oh hell no," Dean shook his head adamantly.

"Should you two be watchin' that?" Fox looked at his children.

"We're good, Asa, don't worry," Max sneered and Fox hid an unhappy smirk by taking a sip of his beer.

"Morgan, Claire," Dean crossed his arms, but his tone wasn't threatening, "How 'bout you two stick around 'n help us with these pieces we're tryin' to put together."

"Yeah, okay," Morgan agreed with a small grin at Bryan.

"Got anything new?" Claire asked, stepping towards the table.

"Yeah, a lot," Bryan scoffed happily.

"Your boy here was right," Fox jerked his head at Bryan, "All signs point to the Alpha in New Orleans. We've successfully taken out two nests that were honing in on one of the safe houses outside'a Nashville and moved them North-East, but there's still quite a few in the red zone we gotta worry about."

Morgan looked at the map and started to understand the lines were directions the victims had been taken from the assumed safe locations they'd been at, red X's surrounded a few of the starting points and she realized those were vampire nests that had been taken out. There were far more circled starting points than red X's and Morgan wondered if that was a good thing or quite the opposite.

"So, what're we supposed t'do?" Max sighed.

"This is pretty interesting," Fox tried to grin, but Max just stared blankly at him.

"You know there's a spell we're plannin' on using when we get to the final showdown," Sam said intriguingly and Max raised his eyebrows slightly.

"Did we get the book back?" Morgan asked quickly, having just remembered giving it to Castiel before his disappearance.

"Yeah," Dean scoffed, "he left it inside the front door."

"Have you heard from Cas?" she asked.

"He's fine," Dean shrugged, "Usually takes a while when he flies home."

"Got another bird friend?" Fox asked.

"Angel," Dean corrected and Morgan stifled a giggle as Fox nearly spit his beer out.

"Angel?" Fox clarified, "Like, wings, harp?"

"The works," Dean nodded.

"He does not have a harp," Morgan shook her head.

"Can I see the spell?" Max directed his question at Morgan, who glanced at her brother and Dean nodded, moving slightly to reveal the large spell book sitting on the table behind him.

She thumbed through a few pages until she found the blood poisoning spell and Max leaned close as he examined the page.

"What language is that?" he scoffed.

"It's Norn in Orkney dialect," Morgan informed him.

"And you can read it?" he asked with astonishment.

"Morgan reads everything," Claire said proudly.

"Really?" Fox asked.

"Not everything," Morgan shook her head.

"Pretty much everything," Sam smiled.

"What's it do?" Alicia asked.

"Basically it poisons Vampire's blood against them," Morgan explained, "Any that are within about five miles of the spell are toast."

"Wow," Fox nodded approvingly, "That'll be helpful in New Orleans."

"That's the plan," Dean agreed.

With the introduction of magic, Max was more enthused about the plan the group began discussing. Alicia retired to an arm chair, shoving on a set of headphones and occasionally giggling as her eyes stayed fixed on her phone, but the rest of the group focused their attention on the developments of the vampire uprising.

Fox had been making his way from Canada South through the Midwest when an old flame, Tasha Banes, contacted him. Without going into detail, Morgan understood that the witch had suffered a fatal blow and reached out to the father of her children on her deathbed, leaving two rather spoiled teenagers in the care of a hunter who had no idea they'd existed. Max and Alicia were clearly used to getting what they wanted and Morgan found herself a bit jealous of the young man whose mother taught him magic without the constant threat of abuse for failure. Neither twin seemed at all happy about being with their father and Fox was obviously uncomfortable during every interaction he tried to force on them. She considered how different their reactions were to such similar circumstances as the first few days with Sam and Dean ran through her mind, Morgan had been so desperate for the love and protection her brothers had readily offered, unlike the sulky twins who continued to show disrespect every time their father tried to engage a conversation.

Thankfully, the tension wouldn't be in the bunker much longer. Fox, Max and Alicia were heading out the following morning with plans to round up more hunters for the final attack on New Orleans in a week's time.

After very little encouragement from Dean and Fox, the twins, Claire, Bryan and Morgan made their way towards the bedrooms. Max and Alicia stopped at one of the first doors and the others bid them good-night, Bryan gently pulled Morgan down the hall with a hand on her back as Max lingered in the open bedroom door for a moment before closing it reluctantly.

"Good-night, guys," Claire yawned and walked a little faster towards her own room as Morgan and Bryan stopped outside of hers.

With the hallway empty, neither wasted a moment as Morgan's lips eagerly found Bryan's and slipped her hands up the back of his shirt, she'd missed the feeling of his warm, smooth skin. His arm tightened around her waist as his hand ran over her dark hair, halting at her neck and pulling her deeper into a kiss that managed to be tender and hard all at once. Too soon, he let her go and took a step back.

Morgan heard the heavy footsteps just in time and flashed him a sneaky smile before shutting the door as the handsome young man hurried down the hall. Her insides burned with longing and briefly considered sneaking into Bryan's room when everyone had gone to bed, though she knew there was less than no chance that Dean wouldn't somehow know.

\------------------------------------------------------------------------

The next morning, Morgan heard voices from the kitchen as she left her room, but slipped down the hall to the bathroom first. Claire was just walking out as she entered.

"Mornin'," Morgan said.

"Hey," Claire mumbled, Morgan never expected much of a response from her friend until after at least half a cup of coffee.

After washing her hands, she patted them on her sweatpants and turned towards the door, smiling at the handsome, bare chested, young man in the doorway. Her whole body tingled again and she leaned against the sink counter as he approached.

"Good morn-" her greeting was interrupted as he brought his mouth down on hers.

Morgan's hands found his strong back, pulling eagerly at his warm skin and felt a surge of pleasant shock as his large hands reached under her, cupping her still tender bottom gently and lifting her onto the counter. His hands stayed on her thighs, grabbing tenderly as he kissed harder. Morgan ran her fingers around to his firm torso, moving them up his chest and neck until they grabbed his short, brown hair and pushed a little more into the passionate kiss. One hand stayed on her thigh as his other crept under her tank top, rubbing his calloused fingers on her stomach as they inched upward and Morgan felt the tingling urge deepen in her loins. A low groan emanated from the back of her throat when his thumb gently brushed back and forth as his fingers lightly massaged her breast and her hand instinctually moved down his bare chest, finding the waistband of his athletic shorts. Bryan pulled away, though it seemed to pain him to do so, but he smiled and took a deep breath.

"Good mornin'," he said, "You look gorgeous."

"My hair's a mess and I'm in my pajamas," she giggled, sliding off the counter.

"Like I said," he pulled her close and placed a quick kiss on her forehead, "gorgeous. See you at breakfast?"

"Can't wait," she lifted on her toes and met her lips to his before sliding her hand slowly from his torso on her way out of the bathroom.

Morgan changed and met Claire in the hallway as she left her room and they walked into the kitchen together. Fox and her brothers were already there, drinking coffee around a large plate of bacon at the table.

"Mornin'," the girls mumbled together, both grabbing coffee mugs, but Claire reached the pot first.

"Mornin'," Sam and Dean said together, Fox smiled at them as he got up from the table.

"I should make sure Max 'n Alicia are gettin' there stuff together," he said, "Morgan, thank you for showin' him all those spells, even if he didn't say it, he appreciates it and had a great time."

"You're welcome," she nodded, "He's a fast learner and he really helped me out with that transformation spell."

"Yeah," Fox chuckled, "I'm hoping that's one he doesn't learn quite yet, not ready for my Jeep to get turned into elephant or somethin'."

"Don't give me ideas," Max muttered as he and his sister walked into the kitchen with their duffel bags slung over their shoulders.

"Hey, you guys all set?" Fox asked and his children nodded.

"Hungry?" Dean asked, pointing at the bacon, both shrugged and dropped their bags by the doorway before taking a few slices.

"Mornin'," Bryan said as he entered in jeans and a flannel shirt, giving Morgan a small smile as he grabbed his own cup and poured hot coffee into it.

"Hey, Bryan," Dean began, "I gotta test some weapons and clean a bunch of 'em today."

"I'm in," the young man said quickly and Dean nodded with a happy smirk.

"Claire, I gotta head into town later," Sam said, "Wanna come with?"

"Yeah," the blonde agreed instantly, always happy to leave the bunker for any reason.

"And Morgan," Sam leveled his gaze on her and raised an eyebrow.

"Paper, I know," she nodded, "It's gettin' there."

"Get it there," he said firmly.

"Well I think me 'n my crew are gonna start headin' out in a minute," Fox said, setting his empty coffee mug in the sink, "I'm gonna start packin' the car."

"I'll help ya," Dean got up from the table and grabbed Max's bag as Fox slung Alicia's over his shoulder, "I gotta get y'that blade anyway."

"Y'sure it's not a problem?" Fox asked.

"We've got a few of 'em," Dean assured him, "Works on angels, demons, pretty much everything."

"I appreciate it," Fox said as they left the kitchen, "just hopin' I'm not actually gonna have t'use it."

She heard Dean's chuckle fade in the hall as they walked towards the garage.

"Claire you ready t'head out soon?" Sam asked, shoving another slice of bacon in his mouth.

"Whenever you are," she told him.

"I'm gonna grab a shower 'n we can go," he said and left the room.

Morgan grabbed a handful of bacon and leaned against the counter, munching it slowly. Max pushed himself onto the counter next to her and sat with his legs dangling, grinning when she looked up at him, but Morgan could feel Bryan's hard eyes without even glancing at handsome young man.

"So," Max began in a sweet tone, "I was thinkin', y'know I had a really great time doin' all those spells with you yesterday and I'm sure we'll see each other soon with this whole vampire thing, but let me get y'r'number, I wanna text you 'n you can send me videos of all the animals you transfigure."

Morgan smirked, unsure how to respond. She knew Max wasn't being purely friendly, but wished he was, she'd like to have a magical comrade. However, she didn't have to think of a response as one was offered nearly immediately.

"Dude," Bryan growled, "back off."

"What?" Max scoffed, "She can talk to who she likes, man, so you back off. We're both witches and we got a hell'uv a lot more in common than she could with the Brawny Man."

"Witch or not," Bryan grabbed Max by the shirt, pulling the surprised young man off the counter in a quick movement, "I will put you through a fucking wall," with that he released Max roughly.

"Fuck you," Max spit and Morgan saw his fingers curling with the threat of magic and grabbed his wrist.

"Don't even," she said and the look in Max's honey colored eyes told her he knew how serious she was in the command.

"Tell him t'get outta my face then," Max pulled his wrist from her grip and took a step back, "Look, I like you and the two of us, we'd be great together."

Morgan put her hand on Bryan's stomach, stopping his advance on the other young man, "Max, you wanna talk magic 'n exchange tips on spells 'n shit, that's fine, I think you're okay, sometimes, but you 'n I aren't happenin'."

"This guy?" he asked with shock, "Really?"

"Every time," she nodded and felt Bryan's arm around her waist snug her to his side.

"Whatever," Max shook his head and left the kitchen.

Alicia glanced awkwardly at the others, forcing a tightlipped grin and a strange, little wave as she followed her brother.

"So you two officially official now?" Claire asked, pouring herself more coffee.

"Guess so," Morgan smiled at Bryan.

"I'd still keep it under wraps," the blonde said, "Sargent Psycho likes you Bry, but I doubt that'll last if he knows y'r'tappin' his little sister."

Bryan's ears turned bright red and he nodded in agreement with a small smile.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I really REALLY love to hear what you think! Every comment and kudo makes me smile =)


	40. Chapter 40

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> NSFW! I know some of you read at work, but I'm warning you this is not a chapter you're gonna wanna do that- it's up to you and read wherever you like, but I turned red a few times writing this so good luck ;)
> 
> Thank you for the reviews, I so appreciate it you have no idea! 
> 
> CONTENT WARNING: FOREPLAY, I'm not trying to write porn, I don't think I have, maybe a little bit, but tasteful, beware of the tastefully pornish scene(s) Here's your Adult rating right here...
> 
> Enjoy and remember I warned you not to read this at work...

Morgan sat in the library alone, enjoying the silence as she started putting the facts she'd gathered on teleportation into sensical paragraphs. Three pages would be an easy minimum with the mounds of information she'd gathered, having finished her second page and had barely mentioned half the data. She knew it was supposed to be a punishment and much of the information had been eye-opening, but she did enjoy the structure of an assignment and the satisfaction of completing it well. Her solitude was interrupted, however, when Dean and Bryan walked into the main room and each set a very full duffel bag on the map table.

"How's y'r'paper comin'?" Dean asked.

"Good," she told him, "gonna be more than three pages."

"I doubt the other over-achiever will mind," he chuckled and Morgan giggled in agreement, "We gonna bother you if we clean these in here?"

"Naw," she shrugged, "I'm on a roll."

"Then keep rollin'," Dean unzipped one of the duffels and Bryan followed suit, lining several different guns on the table.

Morgan dipped her head over the table again and continued writing, but kept one ear open to the conversation below.

"So, Dean," Bryan sounded a little nervous, "I know I don't have a right t'ask after, well, everything, but, uh, those werewolves. What happened?"

"One of the Betas jumped me in the woods," Dean began, "but he must've missed Sam behind me, he was dead before I even threw him off me. The rest of 'em heard the shot though, so we went guns blazin' at Phelan, but, well, werewolves are fast 'n they had a head start to their cars with the dune buggy up there. The rest of 'em were gone by the time we got back to the cabin."

"So," Bryan still sounded nervous, "what'd we do now?"

"We've got time," Dean assured him, "The first spell has t'be done on the half-moon 'n they missed that so we got about a month before they try again."

Morgan's stomach turned, she knew Phelan had to still be out there, but was trying to keep her thoughts from the terrifying Alpha wolf.

"Are we joinin' the vampire hunt?" the young man asked with an eager tone.

"Eventually," Dean said, "You got a lotta work ahead'a you before I'm givin' you a machete though."

"Yes, sir," Bryan agreed, "I have killed a vampire before, though."

"Really?" Dean sounded impressed.

"Yeah, just one," he told the older man, "I was thirteen, right before we moved here. Missouri had died, Mom still didn't wanna leave Lawrence, but a few of 'em came one night," Bryan scoffed before continuing, "she pulled me outta bed and shoved a machete in my hand while blasting one of their heads off with a double barrel. Two more were bustin' in our apartment, she got one but the other grabbed the shotgun and knocked her out before he tried to turn it on me, not soon enough for me to slice his head off, though."

"Shit," Dean chuckled darkly, "Thirteen? Damn kid."

"Yeah, well," Bryan sighed, "Can't say I didn't enjoy it, we moved here the next day."

"I remember my first kill," Dean said, "My Dad took me on some ghost hunts, but the first real monster," he scoffed lightly, "I was sixteen, werewolf, tagged him with a silver tipped arrow."

"Nice," Bryan commented.

"I stick strictly to bullets now," Dean said and Morgan heard the clicks of a gun being dismantled, "I'm more of a John McClane than Katniss."

"Definitely," Bryan chuckled and Dean did too.

Morgan smiled to herself listening to them chatting and laughing together as she continued her paper. Bryan and Dean had a lot in common, the younger was speechless when Dean told him how many times he'd rebuilt the Impala, assuring the older man he thought it all original. Every small chuckle she heard from the young man made her smile, unable to get his warm skin and passionate kisses out of her mind as she wrote about teleportation.

After finishing the fourth page and realizing she simply needed to write her conclusion, Morgan stretched her arms over her head, dropped her pen on the table and descended the stairs. Dean and Bryan looked up as she approached the map table and picked up one of the pistols absentmindedly.

"I'm hungry," she said.

"You know where the food is," Dean took the gun out of her hand and set it back where it had been resting on Japan.

Morgan stuck her bottom lip out a little and blinked her eyes a few times at her brother, "Will you make me a BLT? Please?"

Dean rolled his eyes and sighed, "Yeah, fine, I could eat. Bryan y'hungry?"

"Yes, please," the young man nodded and Dean smirked at his sister before disappearing towards the kitchen.

Morgan peered down the hall, waited for his footsteps to fade before sliding around the table and slipping a leg over Bryan's lap, straddling his thighs and bringing her mouth down on his. His hands found her sides, pulling her closer briefly before pushing her away gently and turning his head towards the hallway.

"C'mon, Baby," he whispered.

"What?" she giggled quietly, "I can't stop," and kissed him again.

"You have to," he urged, though his hands grabbing her hips said otherwise, "we're lucky we haven't been caught yet, your brother's gonna kill me."

"Maim," she kissed him, "possibly torture," she kissed him again, "but he won't kill you," she tried to kiss him again, but Bryan craned his neck towards the hallway.

"Can we just avoid all of it?" he asked pleadingly and Morgan pouted, "Baby, trust me, you have no idea how much I don't want you t'stop."

"We've got time," she bent her head and kissed his neck, hearing a low moan of pleasure and feeling a hard throb under her right thigh, she whispered with her lips on his ear, "bacon takes a few minutes."

"Yeah," Bryan scoffed, "so does gettin' rid of a hard on."

Morgan's instincts took over and she bit her lip, raising her eyebrows as she rubbed her bottom into his lap, immediately noticing an increase in the firmness under his jeans. Bryan lifted her easily by her hips and pushed her onto the table, shoving a few guns to the side and one clattered to the ground as he stood.

"Later, okay?" his tone was hushed as he glanced at the hallway and hurried to pick up the shotgun that had fallen.

"When?" she whined.

"Tonight," he said, setting the shotgun back on the table and kissing her forehead, "I promise, whether I get disemboweled or not."

Morgan gave him a sneaky smile and shrugged, sliding off the table so she was pressed against him, "Fine," she lifted onto her toes and kissed him quickly before walking, far slower than usual, up the library steps.

"Hey," her brother's call made her whip around halfway up the stairs, staring at Dean walking to the table, balancing three plates in his large hands, "thought you were hungry."

"Yeah," she nodded quickly and walked back down, "that was fast."

"We had bacon left over from this morning," Dean shrugged, "Is that okay, princess?"

"I guess," she smirked, taking a plate from him and turning up the steps again.

"Brat," he said.

"Thank you, Jerk," she crooned, catching Bryan's eyes nearly made her laugh out loud as he tried to scowl at her, with very little success.

\---------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Sam and Claire returned in the afternoon and everyone had to help bring in their haul. Dean repeatedly muttered that if any of the crap they got leaked onto his backseats he was going to kick someone's ass, but Sam rolled his eyes and promised if it had it was only meat juice and possibly ice cream. Bess repeatedly thanked Sam for the large bag of chicken and beef hearts he'd gotten her and Channing.

"Really, Bess, it was nothing," Sam chuckled, "The butcher asked if I was on the Paleo diet, I guess he's had a lotta requests f'r'offal lately."

"For what?" Dean asked.

"Offal," Sam repeated, "Organ meats, kidneys, hearts, liver."

"It's actually called awful?" Dean scoffed.

"Offal," Sam insisted.

"What'd I say?" Dean asked.

"Awful," Sam sighed.

"Exactly," Dean shrugged and Sam shook his head, but didn't continue.

"I really appreciate it," Bess smiled, holding the cold bag close.

It only took one trip to the kitchen with everyone's help and Channing giggled madly while the other's watched in awe as the Winchesters worked in a well-choreographed routine to put away the groceries. Morgan soared the dried goods at Sam near the pantry while Dean grabbed the cold items flying at him and placed them quickly in the fridge or freezer. Her oldest brother caught the large case of beer, usually the last thing Morgan concentrated on, and ripped open the top, handing a bottle to his brother as he took his own and wrestled the box onto a shelf one handed.

"I missed that," Sam smiled at his sister before sipping his beer.

"Me too," she nodded.

"That was so cool," Bess exclaimed, mostly to Channing who was clapping his tiny hands together, "What is everyone thinking for dinner?"

"Bess," Dean held his beer up at her, "if you're willin' to make us dinner, I ain't gonna be picky," he finished his declaration with a long swig.

"Me either," the others mumbled agreeably.

"Have you heard from Garth lately?" Sam asked as Bess opened the fridge and assessed the available ingredients.

"He Facetimed this morning," Bess smiled, "Channing loves it!"

"Everything good?" Dean asked.

"So far," Bess sounded upbeat, but Morgan could hear the concern in her tone, "Didn't have a lot to report."

"No news is good news," Dean shrugged and Bess nodded slightly in agreement.

"Morgan," Sam raised an eyebrow as he got her attention, "Got somethin' for me?"

"Oh, yeah!" she smiled and hurried out of the kitchen to the library.

Sam was walking into the open room when she grabbed her paper and turned to descend the stairs.

"Five pages," she handed him her report proudly.

Sam nodded as he skimmed the pages and gave her a small smile, "Nice job, I'll read through it tonight. Did y'learn anything?"

"Lots'a things," Morgan assured him.

"Good," he said, "I think we should keep this up, not y'know as a punishment, but I think some research on new spells might be a good idea before you go all gung-ho with 'em."

"Um, okay," Morgan shrugged, unable to find a reason to argue with him, but it seemed a bit over-precautious.

"What do you know about transfigured animals?" Sam asked with a baiting expression.

"What'd you mean?" she inclined her head.

"I'm just a little nervous a twen'y-five-pound dumbbell's gonna freefall outta the sky," he smirked.

"Oh," Morgan said quietly, thinking of Elsu soaring over the trees and suddenly reverting to his original form, her stomach dropped with the image of the heavy weight unexpectedly divebombing into a crowd, "I hadn't thought about it."

"Well, y'gotta start," Sam scolded gently and Morgan nodded sadly before turning to walk back up the stairs, "Where y'goin'?"

"There's gotta be a book about transfiguration up here," she shrugged and Sam chuckled before following her up the stairs.

They searched a few of the Men of Letter's magical reference books and were pleasantly surprised to find a wealth of information on the subject of transforming objects into animals, both were visibly relieved when it was confirmed several times over that the animal would only change back when enchanted with the reversal spell. The likelihood of another witch noticing Elsu, let alone recognizing the falcon as a transfigured dumbbell, and casting a reversal spell on him seemed extremely low.

"Hey, Sam," Morgan gave her brother a sideways glance as they slid the books back on the shelves.

"Yes, Morgan," he smirked.

"What're we gonna do about Phelan and Dagon?" she asked meekly.

Sam sighed sympathetically and put his arm around her shoulders, "We're gonna do what we do best, Sweetie," she glanced up at his grin, "Waste 'em."

"Gotta plan?" she scoffed lightly.

"We will," he assured her with a gentle shake, "We always figure it out."

"Yeah," she agreed quietly, hoping he was right.

\---------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Dinner was delicious, as it had been every night Bess had cooked it, and no one even seemed to notice the blood dribbling down Channing's chin as they enjoyed an active conversation and encouraged the toddler to eat every bite of his raw offal. Bryan especially seemed to find it highly amusing when the tiny werewolf growled and shook his head while ripping off a piece of chicken heart. Channing loved the attention and continued eating over-dramatically until Bess warned him to stop a second time, Bryan stifled a chuckled and Morgan caught him and the toddler sharing a funny grin. She gave him a sneaky smile when they met eyes, her mind was still racing nervously with expectations of his promise for a rendezvous later.

Dean insisted on doing the dishes since Bess had cooked and the girls had done them the night before, Bryan readily offered his assistance, as did Sam, though he was clearly unenthused about the task. Bess bid them all good-night and took Channing down the hall for a bath before bed.

"Why don't you girls get a movie set up in my room?" Sam offered.

"No chick flicks!" Dean called as Claire and Morgan left the kitchen.

Claire and Morgan agreed on 'Who Framed Roger Rabbit' after the blonde insisted it was really funny and not a kid movie, despite the cartoons, and Morgan agreed to give it a shot. Sam walked in the room with an open beer in one hand and two soda cans in the other, setting both on his desk as he took a swig.

"Roger Rabbit?" he gestured at the television with his bottle and nodded, "Great movie."

"Oh, yeah," Dean agreed as he walked in with Bryan behind him, "Classic! Sam, you remember when Dad took us t'see it at that drive-in?"

"Barely," Sam scoffed, "I was like four."

"Yeah," Dean chuckled, "he didn't realize it wasn't a kid movie 'til it was too late. Pretty sure I had an unhealthy crush on Jessica Rabbit for a few months after that."

"Months?" Sam expelled a quick laugh, "You still do, don't lie."

"Who doesn't," Bryan shrugged and Dean raised his beer, clinking it with Bryan's soda before taking a drink.

Claire dropped into the corner of Sam's bed and Morgan sat next to her, finding her oldest brother sliding next to her as Sam offered Bryan the desk chair and walked across the hall to grab another from Dean's room. Once everyone was settled, the movie started and Morgan was happily shocked to find it hilarious, not at all what she was expecting from a movie with cartoons.

"Okay, kids," Dean patted Morgan's knee when the credits started rolling and pushed himself off the mattress, "bedtime."

They all mumbled good-night and Morgan hugged both her brothers before leaving for bed, she'd hoped to catch Bryan's eye before he left the room, but he was already walking in his room when she looked down the hall. She felt disheartened at the slight, wondering if he'd forgotten or decided against taking the chance, Morgan tried to shrug it off as she entered her own room.

The sounds in the hallway faded as she laid in the dark, wondering what had happened, what she'd done and why Bryan changed his mind. She couldn't sleep, she wasn't even tired, her mind was racing with thoughts of his warm skin, soft lips and the hardness she'd enticed earlier under his jeans. Light streaming into her room for a very brief moment made her sit up quickly, barely able to see the handsome young man's outline in the darkness as he shut the door silently on the hallway and its ever-present brightness. Morgan's stomach fluttered with excitement and nerves, frozen against her headboard as Bryan crawled onto her bed, careful not to make too much noise.

"You came," she whispered.

"Didn't think I would?" his hushed tone was amused.

"Wouldn't blame you if y'didn't," she giggled quietly.

Bryan let out a low shushing sound, leaning over her and dipping his head until his lips met hers, but they didn't stop there. Morgan stifled a moan as Bryan's mouth found her jaw line, kissing along her neck, blowing softly in her ear and moving down her throat to her collar bone. Morgan's fingers were practically scratching her sheets as she tried to make absolutely no noise while his kisses continued to her shoulders. He pushed her shirt up slowly and the urge she felt between her legs increased exponentially when his tongue flicked one breast and then the other.

Morgan couldn't hold back a happy, sharp inhale when Bryan's fingers found her inner thigh and she threw a hand over her mouth, he didn't seem to notice as his hand inched upward, sliding inside her shorts and rubbing lightly on her panties. Her back arched a bit as she pushed into the sensation, begging for more, releasing her mouth and running her hand through his short brown hair, her other exploring his smooth torso. Bryan returned his lips to hers, but his fingers stayed where they were, playing a melody of pleasure on her most sensitive spot. With him pressing on top of her, Morgan felt the firm throbbing on her thigh again, equal parts instinct and curiosity drove her hand down his side and slipped her fingers inside his athletic shorts.

Instantly, Bryan kissed her harder and his fingers slipped around the thin fabric barrier. Her excitement skyrocketed, pulling him closer at the back of his neck, inching her other hand under the waistband of his boxer briefs. Her hand faltered a moment at the hard, warm skin, but her fingers couldn't stop from exploring the unfamiliar appendage. Morgan's back arched again and a small moan escaped when his finger slipped inside and a new wave of pleasing sensations shook her body, but suddenly it all stopped.

Morgan put a hand over her mouth again, looking at Bryan with wide eyes in the dark as they both listened intently, a door had definitely shut somewhere and sounded close. Bryan rolled quickly off her bed as the handle clinked and Morgan threw her blankets back over herself, closing her eyes just in time for the hallway light to pour into her room.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> PLEASE TELL ME WHAT YOU THINK!


	41. Chapter 41

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> THIS STORY IS A SEQUEL- I just wanted to throw that out there to anyone enjoying this who didn't read part one yet
> 
> Thank you for the feedback on the last chapter, whole new world for me and I'm so glad it went over well =) I look forward to hearing what you think of this chapter

"Morgan, you up?" Sam asked quietly.

Morgan stayed as still as she could, forcing her breathing to slow despite her heart pounding in her ears, praying he hadn't seen Bryan slide under her bed. The light hadn't reached her closed eyelids, all she could hope was her bed stayed in the shadows and Bryan's long limbs were curled out of sight.

"Hey, man what's up?" Dean yawned after the sound of another door creaking open, her stomach twisted.

"Nothin'," Sam said, "thought I heard Morgan," his voice faded as he shut the door, returning her room to complete darkness.

Morgan released a heavy, silent sigh, peering over the edge of the bed. After a few moments Bryan's handsome face slowly appeared, he shook his head with a terrified smile before mouthing 'good-night'. She nodded and kissed the air before laying back on her pillow, adjusting her shirt with as little movement as possible. It took another few minutes, ensuring there was no movement in the hallway, before Bryan slowly edged out from under the bed. She watched him sneak to her door and his shoulders rose and fell before he opened it without a sound, closing it the same way in a flash and although she couldn't see him, Morgan knew the handsome young man was sprinting on tiptoes to his bedroom.

\-----------------------------------------------------------------

Dean woke them all early for a rather grueling conditioning session before breakfast. Morgan was panting by the time they'd finished, Claire seemed to be only barely holding herself up and even Bryan looked exhausted as they left the gymnasium. The girls showered first and Claire was already starting a pot of coffee when Morgan walked into the kitchen. Seeing she was alone with her best friend for the first time in a while, she peered both ways down the hall before giving the blonde a sneaky smile.

"I did something," she whispered excited.

"With Bryan?" Claire asked in an equally hushed and enthusiastic tone, squealing as quietly as possible when Morgan nodded, "What happened?"

"He snuck into my room last night," she told her, glancing at the doorway repeatedly.

"Holy shit!" Claire breathed, "That's so hot, and incredibly stupid, but mmm, girl."

Morgan giggled and nodded her agreement to all of Claire's points.

"Did you, y'know," Claire raised her eyebrows, "do it?"

"No," Morgan shook her head, "stuff, good stuff, new stuff, really good new stuff. I have no idea what I'm doing though."

"That's okay," the blonde chuckled, "he knows you don't."

"You talk t'him about me?" she pretended to sound offended.

"All the time," Claire smirked.

"Well, what the hell?" Morgan giggled, "C'mon, spill!"

"What spilled?" Dean asked as he walked in the kitchen.

"Nothin'," the girls mumbled, both blushing as they turned away from him, stifling laughter.

She and Bryan kept meeting eyes at breakfast and Morgan tried her hardest not to blush, but there was no controlling the heat creeping to her cheeks. Bess walked in as they were finishing, she wore a pretty red jacket and Channing was wrapped in a dark blue coat, stomping his feet in tiny hiking boots.

"Goin' somewhere?" Dean asked, turning on the faucet to rinse the dishes.

"We need a walk," she smiled, "We'll stay close, but this guy's gotta run around."

"Yeah, I bet," Sam agreed, "Want one of us to go with you?"

"I could use some fresh air," Claire remarked before Bess refused the offer.

"Me too," Morgan said.

"I'd rather you stick around here," Dean commented quickly.

"Why?" Morgan snapped.

"How 'bout 'cause I said so?" Dean crossed his arms and leveled his gaze on her.

"No," Sam stepped between them before Morgan could retort angrily, "Stop it, both'a you. Morgan, we're just worried, you can't wander off or be alone. Dean, there's a difference between protecting and imprisoning, find the line, man."

Morgan and Dean stared at each other as Sam's words settled around them and both took a deep breath before the oldest spoke.

"Fine," Dean growled finally, "Guess we're all goin' on a walk."

Morgan rolled her eyes, but didn't say anything as she left the kitchen with Claire to get their jackets.

Sam, both girls, Bess and Channing made their way up the spiral stairs and out the front door a few minutes later, Morgan's stomach turned the whole way, wondering where Bryan and Dean had gotten off to. The mystery was short lived when the group walked around the side of the warehouse above the bunker and aggressive rumblings echoed from the cave entrance moments before the Impala tore out of the darkness, quickly followed by the Grand National.

Sam chuckled when Channing growled in imitation of the powerful cars and picked up the tiny werewolf, approaching the idling cars as the others followed.

"Roooooom!" Channing laughed and, with the small encouragement, both Bryan and Dean revved their engines, producing a manic squeal of joy from the toddler.

"Thought we were walkin'?" Sam asked when the engine noises softened.

"Yeah," Dean scoffed lightly, "'til I remembered this kid thinks he can beat me 'n my Baby."

"I never said that, Sam!" Bryan yelled, laughing through his open window.

"You implied it!" Dean called with amusement in his tone.

"So, how you two doin' this?" Sam asked.

"Startin' a quarter mile down the road," Dean pointed down the empty country road, "First one back wins. Y'wanna be our flag girl? I know you got some goofy scarves in your room."

"Shut up," Sam scoffed, walking away from the cars and Morgan waved at them as both took off down the road.

The by-standers found a spot to observe as the cars made it to the quarter-mile starting line. The two black dots far down the road grew quickly as Bryan and Dean raced back to the bunker, finally able to discern them from each other Morgan squealed a little seeing the Buick just ahead of the Chevy. Not for long as the Impala growled aggressively and pulled ahead, pushing at full power.

The black cars were nearing the finish line, the Buick's nose even with the Chevy's backdoor. Suddenly, a high-pitched whirring noise cut through the air and the rear wheels of the Grand National emitted clouds of white smoke as the coupe lurched forward, the front wheels nearly jumping off the ground, finishing the race first with a car length between the rear bumper and the Impala.

"Holy shit," Sam breathed.

Bryan turned in front of the bunker and brought the car to a sliding stop practically as he kicked his door open. Morgan found her feet running at him and threw her arms around his neck, only remembering not to kiss him when he turned his head slightly with a modest smile. He squeezed her quickly before they released each other and Dean got out of the Impala, smirking and shaking his head.

"You asked for it," Bryan chuckled, putting his hands up in a defensive manner.

"That I did," Dean admitted and the two shook hands.

"What was that?" Morgan asked, "At the end?"

"Turbo boost," Bryan patted the hood of his idling car.

"A'right, you gotta take me for a ride in that," Claire insisted.

"Let's go," Bryan jerked his head and the blonde ran around to the passenger door.

"I'm next!" Morgan giggled, but Bryan shifted his eyes from her to Sam and then Dean, the latter took a moment to look between the young couple then his brother, who shrugged.

"Down 'n back," Dean said firmly.

"Yes, sir," Bryan nodded.

"I let 'im win," Dean commented as Bryan and Claire drove away on the country road.

"Sure y'did," Sam scoffed, sharing a laugh with his sister.

Morgan climbed up the short hill, leaning against the warehouse exterior, for a better view of the Grand National fishtailing down the road ahead. She smiled when Channing started crawling up the incline and reached for his tiny, dirt covered hands, pulling him next to her.

"Oh, Channing," Bess shook her head, "Be careful."

"I got him," Morgan assured her, tightening her grip a little on the toddler's hand.

"Rooooom!" Channing laughed again and as if Bryan had heard him, the growl of the Buick's engine echoed in the still air.

"That's a fast car," Morgan said to the little boy and Channing nodded, jumping on his booted feet with excitement.

Before the coupe reached the bunker, the tires squealed loudly as the car spun a complete circle in the road. Morgan gasped, putting a hand over her mouth as her stomach dropped, but laughed when she heard Claire's happy whoop and the Grand National lurched forward again. Her body tingled with the newly familiar urge the handsome young man kept creating. Slower than she liked, Morgan walked back down the hill, helping Channing and his little legs through the roots and dead leaves.

"Okay, showoff," Dean scoffed when Bryan got out.

"Wanna try?" Bryan offered and Dean tried to look disinterested before nodding eagerly.

"Hey, it's my turn," Morgan reminded them.

"C'mon," Dean jerked his head at the black coupe and Morgan hid a frustrated sigh, but scowled slightly at Bryan, before switching with Claire and shutting the passenger door.

The sideways smirk Dean gave her was practically an admission to his understanding that she really would've preferred Bryan in the driver's seat, simultaneously expressing his satisfaction at the change in plans.

"You know what y'r'doin'?" Morgan asked with a snide tone as Dean accelerated down the road.

Dean expelled a hard scoff, pushing the car harder and Morgan felt a powerful lurch, the hood rose a bit and the suspension jumped as the turbo kicked in, she couldn't help but giggle with excitement.

"Do I know what I'm doin'," Dean grumbled with a smirk, "Hold on," Morgan grabbed the door just in time as Dean shoved his left foot onto the floor and cranked the wheel hard.

Morgan screamed with nervous exhilaration as the car spun not once, but twice on the country road, coming to a stop facing the bunker.

"Who's the showoff?" she laughed as Dean smiled guiltily at her before releasing the emergency brake with his left foot and driving towards the bunker with far less enthusiasm.

Sam was shaking his head as they got closer, but Bryan looked impressed, Bess was actively holding Channing back from running at the moving car in his excitement. Morgan pushed her door open and was almost immediately met with an armful of toddler who had finally managed to wriggle away from his mother.

"Careful, buddy," she lifted him into her arms as she walked away, but Channing flailed and reached for the car over her shoulder.

"Me! Me!" he cried.

"Channing," Bess sighed, trying to take him in her arms, but latched onto Morgan's neck.

"Does he want a ride?" Bryan offered.

"Oh, no, he's fine," Bess shook her head.

"Me go!" the little boy insisted with a finger trained on the idling car.

"Go on," Bryan insisted with a grin, "Dean, you mind?"

"C'mon, buddy," Dean waved Bess and Channing into the car and Morgan struggled to put the squirming child down without dropping him as he hurried into the passenger side, climbed over the console and plopped himself in Dean's lap behind the wheel.

Dean chuckled, but instead of moving the tiny werewolf onto his mother's lap after Bess eased onto the passenger seat, he put Channing's hands on the wheel and told him to watch his speed before they turned back up the road. Compared to the last few trips, the Grand National drove up and down the road very tamely, but Channing was still giggling madly when they returned.

\----------------------------------------------------

Bess and Channing retired to their room for a nap after the excursion outside, Sam snuck off to the library with his laptop and a few beers, while Claire and Morgan sat in the young witch's bedroom pouring through spell books for new ideas and Dean had invited Bryan to shooting practice. The handsome young man had agreed quickly, but shot Morgan an anxious, wide-eyed look before following her oldest brother to the gun range.

"So, last night," Claire said with a mysterious grin, making Morgan blush.

"Yeah," she nodded, "it was crazy, he's just so, mmmm, Claire, I can't help it!"

"I know that feeling," the blonde giggled, "Be careful though, if they caught you guys," she finished the proclamation with a grimace.

"I know," Morgan agreed, "They almost did."

"What?!" Claire slammed her hands on the open book in front of her.

"Yeah," Morgan shook her head, scoffing lightly, "Sam opened my door in the middle of it, Bryan rolled under my bed like half a second before."

"Jeezus, girl," Claire breathed, "I'd've had a heart attack."

"Just about," Morgan nodded, "Oh, man, though, it felt so good."

"Did you see it?" Claire asked, raising her eyebrows with intrigue.

"No," Morgan shook her head, blushing at the question, "just, uh, felt a little."

"And?" Claire leaned forward.

"I don't know," Morgan laughed uncomfortably, "I don't exactly have a lot to compare it to, hell if it wasn't for you I wouldn't even know what it was!"

"Happy t'help," Claire giggled, "Let's just keep y'r'brothers from findin' out I gave you sex ed lessons."

"Oh, yeah," Morgan said sarcastically, "I was plannin' on in, right after tellin' 'em where Bryan's fingers were last night."

Claire gasped and threw a pillow at her friend as she dissolved into laughter, catching her breath and wiggling a few fingers at Morgan, "So, little finger action last night?"

Morgan responded with increased blushing and slumping her face into the pillow making moaning sounds before looking up at Claire, "I seriously can't believe how it just, oh my God, it was just so gooood!"

"It gets better," Claire crooned and Morgan giggled.

A knock on the door stopped their amusement.

"Yeah?" Morgan called and Sam walked in the room.

"Hey," he shoved his hands in his pockets, he always got a bit awkward when he walked in on the two of them giggling together, "You guys want some lunch?"

"Yeah," Morgan slid off her bed with Claire, "Wha'cha makin'?"

"We got a lotta food," Sam shrugged, "Wha'cha want?"

They both shrugged and followed Sam into the kitchen on a search for lunch. His suggestion for putting together a salad was met with two scrunched noses as both girls shook their heads. They microwaved a couple frozen burritos while Sam made himself a rather elaborate concoction of lettuces, raw vegetables, raisins and pine nuts. Morgan snuck a peek as he was finishing tossing it with a raspberry vinaigrette dressing and, without offering, Sam plopped a small portion next to her burrito.

"Eat it," he ordered with a smirk, "Y'can't live on frozen, processed crap."

Morgan rolled her eyes with a small smile, but after a bite, ate the rest of her salad before touching the chicken burrito, it was surprisingly tasty.

"Hey, kids," Dean said as he walked in the kitchen with Bryan, "Sam, Cas called."

"Yeah, anything new?" Sam asked.

"Not really," Dean grabbed a beer from the refrigerator, tossing the cap in the trash, "tryin' to build the troops right now."

"Anything new from Crowley?" Sam's question was bitter.

"He's been radio silence since he dropped in at that motel in Normal," Dean scoffed.

"I could try him," Morgan offered and everyone stared at her, "What? He likes me."

"He's not gonna answer f'r'you," Dean shook his head.

"Let's see," she smirked, pulling her phone from her pocket and swiping the screen until she found Crowley's name and put the call on speaker.

Ring. Ring. Ring, "Darling, how are you?" Crowley's gravely voice echoed in the kitchen.

"You have got to be kidding me?!" Dean tossed his arms up in frustration.

"Hi Crowley," Morgan smiled, "Any chance you have new news?"

"Actually," his voice crackled through the speaker, "A little bit," they all turned as the accent moved to the kitchen counter, where Crowley was sitting with his phone in one hand and a flask in the other, he waved the latter at the group, "Hello boys, girls."

"Hey!" Sam barked, advancing quickly on the demon, "You can't just bust in here whenever you damn well please," turning to his brother he asked angrily, "Don't we have warding f'r'this?"

"It's uh," Dean pulled a hand across the back of his neck as he averted his eyes from Sam.

"Think of it as, your brother gave me the garage code," Crowley lifted his flask at the tallest Winchester before taking a swig.

"What?" Sam growled at Dean.

"Look, man," Dean began, "It's just him, he figured out how t'get around it 'n I didn't think it was that terrible. It's Crowley, he helps, sometimes."

"Sam," Morgan got her brother's attention, "we need him."

"You do," Crowley reiterated, "Dagon has rounded up a couple hundred demons for her army, it was more, but loads of them jumped ship after the hiccup in Wolf Creek. Your handiwork I assume?" No one spoke, but the demon smirked and raised his flask again before a quick sip and continuing, "A month is a long time, especially in Hell years, you boys I'm sure both remember, so when you set the Spades of Spot back another half-moon the little Princess lost at least half of her troops. Slithering home, begging forgiveness, oh the torture they're enduring now," he sighed with a relaxed grin, "I really should get back to overseeing all of it."

"So, she's workin' with less demons," Sam shrugged, "A couple hundred's still a threat, a big one."

"Yes," Crowley agreed, "especially since I hear Dagon was extremely displeased with the foiled plan and is now taking a more active role over the wolves."

"I'm sure Phelan's thrilled about that," Dean muttered.

"Quite," Crowley smirked, "I'm sure he is now more determined to succeed before Dagon does."

"Does what?" Sam asked.

"Kills me," Morgan whispered to herself, but the room had silenced in that moment and everyone turned to her.

"Not happenin'," Dean growled.

"Though I have to point out," Crowley began, "staying stagnant might not be the best option for keeping our precious little witch safe."

Sam and Dean looked at each other, Morgan's gaze moved from their nervous faces to Bryan's, nearly white with fear and Claire, equally as pale, beside him.

"Did you tell them where we are?" Dean barked, taking a few threatening steps towards the demon.

"Of course not," Crowley answered calmly, despite Dean's firm grip on the lapels of his suit, "but it's only a matter of time before they figure it out, you're the geographical center of the United States for Christ's sake!"

"We are?" Morgan asked.

"Yeah," Sam confirmed, turning back to Crowley with a hard glare, "Do you have any idea what Dagon's plannin'?"

"Allow me to get back to my torture and I assure you," Crowley sipped his flask, "I'll have more information shortly."

"Start slicin' 'n dicin' then," Dean released the King of Hell's jacket and took a step towards his siblings.

"Darling," Crowley smiled at Morgan, "always a pleasure, but next time you call I'd prefer you're alone," and with a wink he was gone.

"That guys a dick," Bryan growled after several moments of silence.

"Huge," Dean agreed, "but he makes a good point."

"So, what?" Sam scoffed, "We run again?"

"Sam," Dean sighed, "We were plannin' on meetin' up on the vampire trail in a few days anyway, so we just make it sooner."

"And what?" Sam asked bitterly, "Take her with us? What about Bess and Channing?"

"I'll call Garth," Dean said, "tell him what's up. I'm not sayin' we gotta leave right now, but we're gettin' on the road tomorrow."

Sam's jaw twitched at the commanding voice his brother used at the end of his proclamation, but he didn't retort.

"Claire," Dean barely turned to her as he finished the order, "Go get Bess."

The blonde left the kitchen quickly.

Morgan tried to force a smile at Bryan, but he looked as worried as he seemed angry and hardly met her eyes.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Kudo? Comment? Please =)


	42. Chapter 42

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This chapter offers a moment a lot of people have been waiting for and I'm very sure will surprise a lot of you. I write my characters the way they ask to be written, Dean and Sam especially are more like two people I've known a long time than a character I have any control over, I was surprised myself with this development...
> 
> Thank you for the reviews and I hope everyone enjoys this addition!

While Sam and Dean got into an in-depth discussion about the change in plans, Bryan slid out of the kitchen and towards the bedrooms. Morgan kept her eyes on her brothers, who were not paying any attention to her, as she snuck out behind him and hurried to catch up.

"Bryan," she called quietly, making the young man stop and turn to her, "Are you, mad?"

"No," he shook his head, "it's all just, a lot, that Crowley guy, I mean, I know it's all normal for you, but, I don'know, it's just a lot."

"Yeah," she agreed sympathetically, "It was when I first came too, he's really not an entirely bad guy, though, I mean, I know he's-"

"The King of Hell," Bryan offered dryly.

"Yeah," Morgan admitted, "but he does help, when we have a common enemy."

"I get it," he nodded, "still though, it's-"

"A lot," she nodded slowly, "Bryan," Morgan sighed before the words poured out, "everything here is a lot. A lot of monsters, a lot of danger, a lot of rules and a lot of bullshit for breakin' them. I can't blame you if this is all too much, what you've already been through, and y'r'mom and now being here, caught up in all this crap. You should've taken the bus, I can't believe my brother did what he did to you, I'm so sorry, and-"

"Morgan," Bryan interrupted, giving her wrists a little shake, "stop. I want t'be here, I made that choice because I want to be here, and Dean had every right t'do that," she stared at him incredulously, "You can't lead a team where people don't listen and expect it to be anything but a disaster, I shouldn't've let you two leave-"

"Like you could'a stopped us," Morgan scoffed.

Bryan raised an eyebrow, reminding her far too much of her oldest brother, "Try 'n pull some crap like that again and see."

A strange mix of fluttering and twisting affected her stomach as Morgan felt heat rise on her cheeks.

"I'm in this f'r'the long haul," Bryan continued, "It's in my blood, Baby, finding you has been the best thing that could'a happened t'me, but I'd be in this whether we'd met or not. As overwhelming as your family and, uh, friends, are, I feel like I got a pretty good deal gettin' t'learn from y'r'brothers. They know what they're doin', prob'lly better than anyone 'n I knew some pretty badass hunters, I'm wrapping my mind around all of this, but I know there's no where I could learn what I need to better than here."

Morgan slowly nodded in understanding of what he said, "So, you just need a minute?"

"Yeah," he smiled, "just gotta clear my head after I see that, guy, demon, he's a real asshole."

"I know," she smirked, "he kinda grows on you though."

"Yeah, we'll see," Bryan scoffed.

"Think you'll be surprised," Morgan shrugged.

"Hope so," he said simply.

000000000000000000000000000000000000000000

Dean called them all into the kitchen a short while later, Bess and Sam were at the table, Channing sitting in the latter's lap. Claire's legs dangled off the counter she sat on while sipping a soda and Bryan walked in just a few moments after Morgan leaned next to her friend on the island.

"Okay, kids," Dean clapped his hands, eyeing the group, "Here's the deal. We gotta start headin' towards the action in New Orleans, I need full cooperation from all'a you. This is gonna be dangerous 'n I can't have anybody outta line. Bess, we're gonna meet with Garth 'n get you 'n Channing with him at a safe house on our way down."

"How?" Claire asked and Dean inclined his head at her, "Last I checked the Impala seats six, uncomfortably, 'n I'm pretty sure we can't fit it with a car-seat."

Dean looked around the room with a smirk, silently accepting what Claire said to be true, Bess looked uncomfortable.

"I could take them," Bryan offered, "and meet up with you."

Morgan expected Dean to refuse immediately, so was surprised to see him look questioningly at Sam, who shrugged and nodded slightly.

"Bess, would that be okay?" Dean asked.

"Of course," she nodded quickly, "I hate to be a bother, really, you're so kind to offer, Bryan."

"It's not a bother," the handsome young man assured her.

"Claire," Dean said, "you go with 'em."

The blonde nodded and Morgan tried to hide her anger and disappointment, condemned to the backseat alone with just her brothers as company. This was going to be a long trip.

"Okay," Dean continued, "then tomorrow we head out, I'll get you the details on where you'll meet Garth, 'n then you two high-tail it to us, we're gonna meet with Fox first 'n Jody's comin' down."

"Jody's coming?" Claire sounded equally excited and nervous at the idea.

"Yeah," Dean nodded, "it's an all hands on deck situation, we're goin' f'r'the kill on the vamp problem."

"Nice," Bryan gave Dean a sinister grin.

"We gotta get y'r'car ready, kid," Dean told him, "Warding, weapons, the whole package. Sam, where's the paint?"

"I don'know," Sam shrugged, "Garage maybe."

"I'll find it," Bryan assured them and left the kitchen.

"Morgan," Dean said, "Gonna need some protection spells."

"On it," she nodded and hurried after Bryan before Dean could halt her exit.

Morgan caught up with the handsome young man on the way to the garage and ran a hand down his arm, slipping her fingers in between his as they walked, checking behind occasionally to make sure no one, specifically one of her brothers, was behind them.

The Grand National was dusty, parked next to the Impala in the bright garage, but before Bryan could take another step towards the vehicle, Morgan swung herself in front of him, lifted on her toes and quickly met her lips to his. Bryan pulled her close and kissed her harder, sliding his arm around her waist as hers slid up his strong back over his flannel. His other hand ran over her hair, pulling her gently by the back of her neck into a deeper embrace.

"Hey!" Dean's harsh bark got the teens to separate instantly and Morgan felt the color drain from her face as she looked at her brother.

"Dean, I," Bryan stammered.

"Paint's on the toolbox," Dean jerked his head to the other side of the garage and the young man immediately followed the silent order.

Morgan just stared with wide, terrified eyes at her oldest brother, expecting him to start yelling, but he didn't even look at her and popped the trunk on the Impala.

"Dean, we were just-" she took a step towards him, imploring quietly, but the raised eyebrow he gave her stopped the rambling nonsense.

"I'm not stupid, Morgan," he said simply, "You got all the spells we need memorized?"

"Kinda," she shrugged, realizing she'd hurried to the garage without a single spell book, "I'll, uh, I'll go grab my books."

"Yeah, you do that," Dean smirked.

Morgan felt color rushing back to her face as she left the garage, blushing with the realization of what had just happened. Dean hadn't seemed upset, clearly, he wasn't thrilled by what he'd walked into, but she was surprised at how calm he'd reacted to seeing Bryan and her kissing. Too calm. Morgan walked faster to her room, remembering Bryan was alone with Dean in the garage and her stomach turned wondering what was happening back there. Yes, her brother had definitely been way too calm.

Leaving her room, Morgan stopped fast to avoid running into Claire in the hallway, giving her friend a strained look and glancing at Sam much further away, walking towards the garage with a large duffel bag slung over his shoulder.

"What?" Claire asked quietly.

"Dean just saw me 'n Bryan kissing," Morgan whispered.

Claire's eyes went wide, "Is Bryan okay?"

"I think so," she nodded.

"You left him alone with him?!" she asked incredulously, nearly jogging down the hall Sam was almost at the end of.

"I didn't have much of a choice," Morgan insisted, hurrying to keep up.

"He's probably dead already," Claire hastened her pace even more and one of the books slipped from Morgan's arm as she followed, but caught it mid-air with a rather elaborate hand motion and didn't miss a step, though highly disappointed no one else saw it.

The girls slowed their entrance to the garage, taking deep breaths before stopping on the threshold and looking at each other with furrowed brows, turning back to the scene with confusion and intrigue. Dean and Bryan were bent over the Grand National's open trunk, both laying gentle paint strokes on the inside of the decklid, identical to the ones inside the Impala's, popped next to it for reference. Sam had dumped the bag on a near counter and was removing shotguns, extra ammunition, knives and an angel blade.

"What's goin' on?" Claire asked as they walked in together.

"Gettin' the race car ready f'r'huntin'," Dean turned a little before focusing back on the demon trap he was painting in the center of the decklid.

"Bryan," Sam got the young man's attention, "How much room y'got by the spare?"

"It's already got a false floor," Dean said.

"I kept her original," Bryan commented, glancing between the brothers, avoiding Morgan's eyes, "or at least original from what she was like when my Dad drove her," he shrugged and returned his attention completely to the symbol he was painting.

Sam had the idea of protective hex bags along with a couple spells and Morgan readily agreed that was a great idea, trying to get Bryan's attention with a smile, but he was enthralled by the art he was adding to his car.

"Sam," Dean held the brush out to him, "finish up here, would'ja? Morgan, let's grab y'r'stuff."

"I can get it," she said, feeling nervous at the head jerk her brother gave her in silent order to leave the garage.

"I'll help," Dean gave her a tightlipped grin, sliding an arm around her shoulders and no less than pulling her with him down the hallway.

Bryan gave her an encouraging grin before she turned, but Claire's wide, fearful eyes were more reflective of Morgan's current feelings as her oldest brother led her from the garage.

"So," he began when they were out of earshot, "you 'n Bryan-"

"Dean, he's nice and-"

"Morgan," he interrupted calmly, "if I was gonna yell I'd've already done it."

She sighed a little with relief, but wasn't completely alleviated of her concern, "So, y'r'not mad?"

"No, not really," Dean said, "Wasn't what I wanted t'walk into that's f'r'sure, 'n I better never again, but I know that's not the first time you've kissed that kid."

"How?" she asked with almost angry shock that Sam had betrayed her.

"You just told me," her brother stopped in the open room and smirked, Morgan couldn't help smiling and shaking her head at him, "Look, you're experience with boys has been pretty much limited to your brief stint at school, that asshole on the football team, Bryan 'n y'r'little witch buddy with the bad attitude," she nodded slightly in agreement, unsure where he was going, but listened intently, "An' I know y'r'at an age where there's no stoppin', that, I'm not thrilled about it, but the way this has all turned, I mean," he took a deep breath, "look, Daniel Elkin's grandson or not, Dad never would'a let this kid stick around if he knew that was goin' on, but I'm tryin' t'be y'r'brother right now, not Dad, 'n Bryan's a good kid, I like him, really I do."

"I know," Morgan smirked, continuing at Dean's questioning look, "C'mon, you two've been attached at the hip since," she stopped her words before saying 'you whipped him' and just shrugged.

"I put him back in line?" Dean offered and she averted her gaze while nodding, afraid her eyes would betray the anger she still harbored towards him over the incident, "We had a good conversation after that. Did he tell ya?" Morgan shook her head, she hadn't been doing a lot of talking with Bryan in the few alone moments they'd gotten together, "Well, we did. Y'know he's been through a lot too, Morgan, not just recently, his whole life. Some things, he's never had anyone t'talk to about, nobody else got it, livin' that life, growin' up like that, knowin' things like that as a kid 'n y'r'not allowed t'talk about it, it ain't easy. We've spent some time together 'cause we got things in common 'n I'd like t'see that kid become the man he should be, I'd like t'know I had somethin' t'do with it, I really hope that you want that too."

"Of course I do," Morgan said.

"Good," he sounded firm, "because you are still my first priority and I will tell you exactly what I told him, kissin' better be all y'r'doin'. Am I understood?"

"Yes, sir," Morgan felt her cheeks turning red as she nodded at her feet.

"Better," Dean growled and grabbed her gently by the back of the neck, continuing towards the bedrooms.

Morgan kept chancing sideways looks at her brother, completely shocked at his reaction, Sam she could see acting like this, but not Dean. She was certainly happy with the way he decided to treat the situation, but it didn't change the fact that she'd expected at least some yelling.

0000000000000000000000000000000000000000

When Bryan's car was finished and the Impala had been layered in a few new spells as well as protective hex bags, Bess called them all into the kitchen for dinner. Being that it was the last one she'd be there to make, the werewolf wife went all out, creating an elaborate feast of vegetables, chicken and pork loin, sauces, bread and even a cherry pie for desert. Dean looked like he might kiss her during dinner and actually hugged her when Bess brought out the pie.

Morgan, Claire and Bryan offered to wash the dishes when everyone had finished, no one had an argument to this suggestion.

"Okay, Channing," Bess smiled at the yawning toddler, "Bath 'n bedtime."

"Noooo," the little boy whined, though there was little conviction in his tone.

"Can you say good night to everyone, please?" Bess set him on his feet and at first Channing turned into her leg, hiding his face from the others, but Sam crouched a few feet away and coaxed a large hand at the tiny werewolf.

Channing rushed at Sam, wrapping his arms around his neck, and Sam chuckled, gently returning the hug, "Good night, buddy, I'll see you in the mornin'."

"See Dayee," Channing said.

"Soon," Sam smiled, "Y'r'gonna see Daddy really soon."

Morgan couldn't miss Bess brushing her hand across her cheeks.

"Super soon," Dean assured him, crouching next to his brother and holding up a flat palm, "thanks f'r'helpin' me drive that car today, you did a great job."

Channing smiled shyly at Dean before smacking a chubby hand to the man's waiting palm.

Sam and Dean left the kitchen after the incomplete werewolf family, telling the group they'd be in the library and to meet them when they'd finished. Morgan started the dishes scrubbing themselves in the sink as Bryan took a few rags from a drawer.

"You guys don't need my help, right?" Claire looked between the teenagers, "You've got stuff t'discuss, I'm just in the way," she couldn't hide a smirk as she sidestepped out of the kitchen, away from the chore.

"Can't say she's wrong," Morgan giggled nervously, but stopped when she saw Bryan glaring at the doorway before turning towards the sink and pulling a washed dish out of the air, she narrowed her eyes, he still didn't look at her, "Okay, what the hell? Are you mad at me?"

Bryan set the plate down, keeping his hands on the counter as he sighed and shook his head, "No, I'm mad at me."

"Why?" she scoffed, leaning against the sink, staring up at him.

"Because I can't help myself around you," he admitted with an almost sad glance before looking away shamefully, "I lied to your brother. He asked if we'd done anything more than kiss, 'n well-"

"You had to lie," she insisted, "That's a lie of survival, trust me, Dean knows better than anyone."

"I don't wanna lie t'him," Bryan told her and Morgan's stomach twisted.

"You can't," she shook her head, "you can't tell him, Bryan, he'll kill you, me, so much death."

"I'm not gonna," he assured her, "but I don't like sneakin' around him."

"Well, what then?" Morgan crossed her arms.

"I don'know, Baby," Bryan turned her towards him, rubbing her upper arms gently, but she didn't relent their firmly pouty position, "I should be glad that I have the green light to kiss you, but I don't trust myself to stop there."

"Me either," she admitted with a small smile, uncrossing her arms and pulling Bryan closer to her as he brought his mouth down on hers.

For a few moments, they kissed eagerly, his hand found the bare skin on her lower back and Morgan slipped her fingertips inside the waistband of his jeans, tugging his pelvis to meet her torso, but the young man released her, pushing away gently.

"You," he smiled accusingly, "are dangerous."

Morgan took a step towards him, lifting on her toes till she was whispering right in his ear, "You love it."

She couldn't help an excited gasp as he grabbed her hair and lightly tugged her head back before kissing her hard, Morgan's whole body tingled for more.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Love love love your feedback! Kudos make me =)


	43. Chapter 43

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I'm sorry the updates have been slower this week, I know I've gotten this on a sort of schedule and while I know there's no solid expectation of it, I still wish I could pump this out as quickly as I was before. As it is, I've gotten a little distracted, but Morgan's story will be completed.
> 
> Thank you for the reviews, I smile every time I see a new one =)
> 
> Hope to see some of your expectations for what could be following this chapter...

They all left at the same time the next day, just a few moments after dawn broke. Channing was hardly awake, laying on Sam's shoulder as they walked to the garage, only fussing when he was strapped into his car-seat in the back of the Grand National. Bryan's forced smiled made Morgan almost giggled, supposing she should at least be happy her trip didn't include a temperamental toddler one way, though it did include both older brothers and she would be very surprised if Dean had had his last words on the subject of Bryan and her kissing.

With the bags packed and nothing left to do but say good-bye, Bess wiped a few tears away as she thanked them all for their generosity and making her feel welcome in the bunker. She hugged both brothers and Morgan before maneuvering into the backseat of Bryan's coupe next to a sleeping Channing. Claire pulled her best friend into an embrace as the brothers shook hands with Bryan.

"We'll see you soon," Claire promised.

"Better," Morgan smirked, "Please, just be safe."

"Always," the blonde winked.

Sam hugged Claire as Dean began giving the blonde a short lecture, but Morgan was paying attention to the handsome young man approaching her and wrapped her arms around his firm torso.

"Be careful," she whispered in his shirt, "Please."

"I will," Bryan promised, kissing her hair and pulling her closer so his chin rested on top of her head, "You too."

"See you soon?" she glanced up at him through her long eyelashes.

"Count on it," he grinned, chancing a very quick peck on the lips.

Morgan couldn't help notice Sam's wide eyes shift from her and Bryan to Dean as the teens released each other, smirking with surprise when the oldest said nothing, but extended his hand to the young man.

"You drive safe, answer if I call," Dean said firmly and Morgan caught a small wince in Bryan's face, sure her brother's grip was more than slightly harder than usual.

"Yes, sir," Bryan nodded, wiggling his fingers a bit at his side when he got his hand back.

The cars rumbled out, the Impala in front, and Sam locked the massive doors before dropping into his seat next to Dean, slamming the door as they began moving. The Grand National trailed them for a few miles out of town before turning West on the highway as Dean drove East and Morgan watched the coupe get smaller and smaller in the rear windshield until there was nothing left to watch.

"Don't worry," Dean chuckled, "You'll see him soon."

"Am I missing something?" Sam's narrow eyes shifted from his brother to his sister.

"What?" Dean scoffed, "You didn't know?"

"I just don't know how you know," Sam said, "or why that kid's still in one piece if you do."

"I'm not an unreasonable person," Dean pretended to be offended at the idea, Sam rolled his eyes at Morgan and she giggled.

"You are the definition of unreasonable," Sam smirked.

"Yeah, well," Dean shrugged, "I was sixteen once."

"I would think remembering that would make it worse," Sam chuckled.

"But our sweet little sister knows where the line is," Dean's eyes were locked on the rearview mirror as he spoke, "Doesn't she?"

"Yes," Morgan mumbled, heat rising to her cheeks.

"I'm glad you've seemed to find it too," Sam grinned at their older brother.

They drove for hours, mostly on backroads, but a few times Dean couldn't avoid the highway or Sam's relentless request that he stopped trying to. Their first stop was in the Ozarks, a safe house that had so far seemed to remain safe, though the plan still included moving the inhabitants somewhere further from the concerning areas. Fox, Max and Alicia were already there and Jody was on her way, Alex had stayed with friends, vampires weren't exactly her favorite group of people.

Morgan found entertainment in the apps on her phone until it ran out of battery, she didn't understand why they didn't have a longer phone cord for as long as she'd been requesting it and had to relent her phone to the front seat while it charged. For a while she just stared out the window, but the scenery became boring and she felt like she'd memorized every spell in her books so those were equally as dull.

The green cooler behind Dean's seat caught her eye and Morgan smirked, thinking how it would be nice to have a furry distraction on the ride.

"Immatare cane," she tried to whisper while saying the words with conviction, but the music wasn't very loud and there had been a lull in her brothers' conversation, therefore her incantation and the subsequent yapping sound did not go unmissed.

"What the hell was that?" Dean turned in the driver's seat as a tan puppy leapt into Morgan's lap and started licking her face.

"What?" she giggled, talking in a gibberish style tone to the dog, "He's so cute, yes, and he loves car rides."

"Morgan," Dean growled, "Was that my cooler?" she responded with a guilty snort of laughter, "Turn it back," he demanded, "Now."

"But he's so cute," Morgan was still speaking to the puppy, madly licking her face, "So much cuter than a beat up old cooler, yes he is."

"I sweat t'God kid," Dean said threateningly, "I will pull over."

"Dean, really?" Sam sighed.

"Dude," the oldest scoffed, "the beer's in there, it's already weird now, 'n I guarantee the ice is gonna melt."

"Morgan change it back," Sam said firmly.

"Ugh," she threw her head back with a dramatic sigh, "You guys suck. Reditum!"

Morgan hid her rolling eyes while bending over to set the green cooler from her lap back onto the floor behind Dean's seat. She sat back hard and crossed her arms, looking out the window with a frustrated sigh of boredom.

"Got a book?" Dean asked.

"Already read 'em," she responded curtly.

"We'll this is gonna be a fun trip," he smirked at Sam before shaking his head and looking out at the road ahead.

\--------------------------------------------

Eventually, they made it to the sharp turns and winding paths of the Ozarks, continuing deep into the forest and away from the more populated roads. So unpopulated, they could only drive the Impala until Dean had to accept defeat and park his Baby in a small clearing, continuing on foot up the uneven, narrowing dirt path. Morgan's backpack and duffel bag straps were heavy on her shoulders, but Dean had said no to her magicking their cargo along, offering to take one of her bags with the three he was already carrying, she'd had assured him she could manage, mumbling under her breath that he enjoyed doing things the hard way.

"Either'a you got service?" Dean asked, checking his phone.

"I'm on roaming data," Sam shoved his back in his pocket after glancing at the screen, "We'll get there, my maps still work."

"Just like to be able to let them know we're here," Dean grumbled, "House full'a paranoid hunters-"

"They know we're comin'," Sam reasoned.

"If I get holy water dumped on me I am so done," the oldest vowed.

Despite the chilly temperature, they were sweating after a few treks up and down the steep hills, not quite as intense as the mountains, though more frequent. Sam continued checking his phone, assuring them they were going in the right direction and it wasn't that far, Morgan agreed, on the map the straight line looked short, though with the constant change in elevation they weren't exactly gaining a lot of ground.

Just as she sighed at the next hill, enjoying the few moments of level ground, a large raven caught her eye, soaring over the trees towards them. Coming to a fluttering halt in mid-air, snapping its beak at Dean as he reached for his pistol, but Morgan held in arm in front of her brother and took a step towards the bird, settling on a log.

'Hello,' the bird cocked its head one way and the other, 'Are you Morgan?'

'I am,' she nodded with a smile, 'Who are you?'

The bird's eyes widened as its head turned nearly upside down, 'Me? Max sent me to tell you you are close.'

'You don't have a name?' Morgan knew it had to have been Max to send a messenger like this, but found it perfectly fitting of his personality that he didn't bother to name the creature.

'Do I need one?' the raven fluttered its wings.

'Only if you like,' Morgan smiled, she did not want to upset it, 'We're almost there?'

'Very close,' and the nameless raven flew back over the trees it had come from.

"What was that?" Sam asked nonchalantly.

"Max's bird," Morgan said, "Just lettin' us know we're close."

"Guess no body's got service up here," Dean scoffed lightly.

The last hill was certainly as exhausting as the others, though when the woods thinned Morgan couldn't help a shocked smile at what she saw. The front of a little house, a door and a window on either side, even shingles overhanging the entrance, but it looked so flat and funny right up against the side of the next incline. Where the siding should've continued it was rocks and gnarled roots twisting up the sides and over the shingles of the short attempt at a roof. Her awed excitement never faltered as she turned to Sam.

"It's just like The Hobbit," Morgan giggled.

"Right?" Sam smiled.

"Dorks," Dean muttered.

"Like you haven't watched all of 'em," Morgan challenged.

"Twice," Sam added.

"Shut up," Dean growled, walking faster towards the door as his siblings laughed together behind him.

"Winchesters!" Fox's voice boomed and they saw him approaching from a cavern around the other side of the strange home.

"Fox, how's it going?" Dean called to the man.

"Not bad. See you got Max's bird-gram," he smiled at Morgan, "How are y'darlin'?"

"Good, sir," she grinned, thinking of Mr. Kirk for a moment and understanding why Bess had spent so much of her time around Fox blushing.

"Here," he jerked his head towards the cavern he'd appeared from, "C'mon, let's put y'r'stuff down."

Morgan fell in line behind Dean and ahead of Sam as they followed Fox through the damp cavern, dimly lit by strange blue lights that went on as they approached and turned off as they departed. The group walked down a few steps, squeezing through with their bags in a few tight spots and more than once Morgan heard Sam cuss behind her as he knocked his head on low hanging rocks.

"Guess it doesn't always pay t'be a giant, huh, Sammy?" Dean called with a chuckle in his voice.

"Bite me, Jerk," Sam muttered.

Fox slowed at a heavy metal door build into the cavern wall and knocked on it with what was clearly a required sequence, a solid grate slid open and a pair of dark eyes glared at them.

"Hey, Roy," Fox smiled in the pale blue light, "Open up."

"Who y'got?" the man asked gruffly.

"Y'know who I got, asshole," Fox growled, "Open the goddamn door."

The grate slid shut quickly and for a moment Morgan thought they were stuck and would have to walk all the way back to the Impala with her heavy bags again, but then the whole door swung open and they were greeted with a very bright light.

Fox gestured for the Winchesters to enter and Dean gave his brother a look and a small head jerk towards their sister before walking over the threshold, Morgan felt Sam's hand grip her shoulder lightly as she followed.

It was a kitchen, nothing special, the walls and ceiling were painted drywall and the floor was tile, exactly the kind of kitchen most people would be happy to have. Though the occupants wouldn't likely be welcome everywhere, Morgan knew they were hunters, they had the look beyond the flannels and beaten up boots, they'd all seen more than anyone should and survived. About half a dozen of them stood about the room, no one sat as the Winchesters walked in and Morgan set her expression exactly as hard as she knew both her brothers' were.

The man who's eyes matched the ones she'd seen in the grate stared nervously between Sam and Dean, shifting his gaze with a defensive stance, he made Morgan uneasy.

"Roy," Dean smirked at the man.

"Dean," Roy scoffed, "I uh,-"

"Hey, Roy, I can't find OH SHIT!"

"Walt," Sam grinned at the man who'd just entered the kitchen.

"Is there a problem guys?" Fox asked both pairs of men staring at each other.

"We're good," Dean smiled meanly, "Just ain't seen Roy 'n Walt here since they killed us, prob'lly a bit of a shock for them. Don't worry, boys, no hard feelin's."

Morgan stared at her brothers then at the two hunters glaring nervously across the room and felt a lot of hard feelings building towards the strangers. She knew both brothers had not only alluded death on multiple occasions, but had died for short and long periods of time, she did not, however, know that one of those instances had been at the hands of men who were supposed to be on their team.

"Well, uh," Walt stammered, "it's good t'have ya, this ain't no joke, these vamps."

"We know," Sam said, "we've got a plan."

"This spell right?" Roy asked, "Some ancient shit nobody knows how t'read?"

"We got it covered," Dean and Morgan said, both keeping their eyes locked on the pair of hunters.

"Holy crap," Roy's eyebrows jumped when he looked at Morgan, as if he'd just noticed she was there, "D'ja have a kid?"

"Sister," Dean said simply.

"Nice t'meet'cha," Roy mumbled.

"Can't say I feel the same," Morgan smirked, feeling Sam's grip tighten a little on her shoulder.

"Morgan, uh, Max 'n Alicia are in the other room if y'wanna say hi," Fox jerked his head towards the hallway Walt had come from.

She nodded and left to find Alicia and Max. The hallway looked like any hallway she'd see in any normal house, a few lights overhead and pictures on the walls, though, after closer examination, she realized the pictures were not of family members over the years, but rather every one had the same bald man shaking hands and smiling with a different person. A few she recognized from her history book, but most just looked important based on their outfit.

The hall opened up into a large living room with a sunken in floor and an overstuffed sectional, Max and Alicia were reclined on opposite sides, staring zombie-like at the large flat screen on the wall.

"I got y'r'bird," Morgan said as she entered, dumping her duffel on the floor and they both sat up.

"Hey!" Alicia smiled, "I'm so glad y'r'here, this place is beyond boring."

"Seriously," Max scoffed, "but I've had time to practice."

"I see that," Morgan smiled, "It's kinda cool, though, I mean, we're in a mountain."

"Yeah," Alicia rolled her eyes, "the novelty wears off quick, trust me."

"So, uh, where's y'r'boyfriend?" Max asked.

"On his way," Morgan grinned and was surprised to see Max return it.

"I'm sorry I was an asshole," he said.

"I told him he was," Alicia commented.

"Yeah, yeah," her brother rolled his eyes, "Look, things just haven't been easy 'n I've never met a witch my age before, especially one who's, y'know."

"He thinks y'r'really pretty," his sister offered when Max's words trailed away, the slight rise in color in his cheeks admitted her statement to be true.

"It's cool," Morgan said, "I like havin' a witch t'hang out with too, plus y'r'sister's cool so you get a pass," Alicia made a funny face at Max who returned it with a rude hand gesture, but they all laughed, "So what're y'watchin'?"

"Shameless," Alicia jumped onto the couch, slapping the cushion next to her in invitation for Morgan to join, "We're in season four, but we can start over, I love the first episodes."

"Yeah, I'm not s'posed t'watch that," Morgan shrugged, sliding her backpack off and dropping on the couch next to Alicia.

"This isn't their TV," she reasoned.

"Yeah, they're a little uptight with the whole show ratings thing," Max said, joining the girls on the couch, but leaving a few cushions between himself and them.

"Y'r'not wrong," Morgan giggled, "but they're not gonna see it like that."

"C'mon, it's such a good show," Alicia begged, "Seriously, what's the worst thing they'd do?"

Morgan felt heat exploding on her face and turned towards the television, "Put it on," anything to distract them from her blushing response.

She was pleased to find the show at least in familiar surroundings, streets she'd walked many times when her Mother had gone to Chicago for what Morgan now understood was to meet with the Grand Coven. It was a funny show, though in the first few minutes a very handsome and very naked man was sprawled across the screen and Alicia giggled when Morgan gasped and buried her face in her hands for a moment. The characters all swore a lot, even the children, and drank, everything that Morgan's family wasn't was on the screen before her, though she did see similarities in how the siblings treated each other with that of her and her brothers.

"Hey, guys, how's it goin' in here?" Sam walked in from the hallway and Morgan sat up, her stomach twisting, but neither Alicia or Max moved except to wave at him.

Morgan just stared at her brother as his eyes moved from the teens on the couch to the show playing on the television and slowly back on his sister, narrowed threateningly.

"I said I shouldn't," she put her hands up defensively.

"Couldn't," Sam corrected, crossing his arms.

"Sam," Alicia sighed, "y'r'being a little ridiculous don'cha think?"

Chills went down Morgan's spine as Sam's eyebrow raised, Alicia's smirk faded into almost contrition with her eyes shifting to her lap.

"What's goin' on?" Dean's question was upbeat as he and Fox walked in the living room.

"They're watching Shameless," Sam said and Morgan felt Dean's eyes drilling into her as she refused to look at him.

"Max, Alicia," Fox scowled at his children, "Really?"

"What?" his daughter challenged, "It's not a bad show, you guys are being ridiculous."

"Excuse me," Dean put his hands on his hips and again Alicia found herself shyly averting her eyes again.

"Morgan," Sam jerked his head and walked out of the room, Morgan knew better than to not follow.

"You two gotta be kidding me," Fox began scolding.

"Asa-" Max began, but was swiftly interrupted.

"No," Fox barked, "you are both done-" he was still ranting as Morgan followed Sam further down the hall, but his words became inaudible and fell out of ear shot.

Sam walked into an empty bedroom and Morgan followed, leaving the door open and staying near it, just in case she needed a quick exit. He turned with crossed arms and the paining look of disappointment and her stomach turned.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sam it is a really good show... ;p
> 
> Hope you enjoyed and look forward to hearing what you think is going to happen...


	44. Chapter 44

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Thank you to my reviewers! Mkljo, SuzyQ, CrazedPanda, ClaireNovakspn2020, classicalien2308, Jenny, AusKitty, KelseyLynnF, stephie777777, em and everyone who's hit that kudos button y'all are keeping this going so thank you for the feedback! I so appreciate it =)

"Sam, I told them I wasn't supposed to," Morgan insisted, "Alicia was just like, really insistent, I know I shouldn't've but-"

"I said no," Sam growled, "I was really clear."

"I know," she agreed, nodding eagerly, "I'm sorry, really, I told them, I did, but then Alicia was like, what're they gonna do, 'n I was like, ugh Sam, I'm-"

"Okay," Dean said as he walked in and Morgan took a step back from him, but his face was more amused than upset, "Sammy, Morgan, take a breath."

"What?" Sam and Morgan asked with shock.

"What was she s'posed t'do, man?" Dean asked his brother, "Morgan, were they already watchin' it?" she nodded eagerly, "See, c'mon, man, she was stuck, like that time in high school y'r'buddies picked you up 'n started knockin' down mailboxes. What were you gonna do? Climb out the sunroof of a moving car?"

"Dad still whooped my ass," Sam argued.

"Y'think he was right?" Dean asked, "You didn't want anything t'do with those kids after that and Dad beltin' y'had nothin' t'do with it."

"Who the hell are you?" Sam's eyes were wide at his brother, Morgan too was staring at Dean in shock.

"Look," Dean chuckled, "I'm not condoning you watchin' crap like that, kid, but seriously Sam, ease up, we just got here, they're the only kids around. What would you've had her do?"

Sam nodded slowly, but his scowl turned to a smirk of surprise, "Okay, y'r'right," turning to his sister with a raised eyebrow, "But you better not've liked it."

Morgan shook her head with a dramatic grimace, "It was awkward."

"A'right," Sam sighed, "Think you guys can find somethin' else to watch?"

"Oh, I don't think we gotta worry about that," Dean scoffed lightly, continuing at the questionable glances from his siblings, "Pretty sure Max and Alicia have lost the TV, in fact," he closed the door quietly, "let's just let them have a few minutes."

"How long are we gonna be in the hobbit-hole?" Morgan asked.

"Should have the whole gang together in the next couple days," Dean said, "then we're headin' t'New Orleans."

"Shit!" Morgan threw a hand over her mouth, "Sorry, but, I just thought, Bryan and Claire, how are they gonna find us here? There's no service."

"You don't have service?" Sam asked, "I got it as soon as we walked in."

"Already texted him the coordinates," Dean assured her.

Morgan slipped her phone from her pocket and indeed had full bars, furrowing her brown in confusion she looked at her brothers, "How?"

"Prob'lly an antenna at the top'a this place," Sam reasoned, "Knocks out everything around."

"Any other concerns?" Dean smirked.

"You know I need stuff f'r'that spell," she reminded.

"A heaven tree and a fish egg, right?" Dean asked.

"Hell'uv'a memory you got," Morgan shook her head, "but I'm gonna need Crowley t'get this stuff."

"This prob'lly isn't the best place to have him drop in," Sam said.

"Y'think?" Dean agreed.

"So, what do we do?" Morgan asked.

"How can we even be sure he's gonna help us with this?" Sam crossed his arms.

"He will," Morgan assured him and her brothers rolled their eyes at each other.

"Y'r'not jealous are you?" Sam smirked at Dean, "Our sister stole y'r'boyfriend."

"It's cool," Dean shrugged, "I stole hers."

Even Morgan couldn't help a loud laugh as the three took a minute from their plan for light amusement at each other's expense. She wasn't sure why Dean was being so understanding while Sam seemed to be taking a page from the hard-ass book, but Morgan planned to enjoy it as long as it lasted, she could handle Sam, usually.

So their plan blossomed. Most of the vampire victims had been moved, there was only one family left and planning on heading out early the following morning. Leaving only the hunters going on the New Orleans attack in the mountain mansion. The Winchesters would head out before the rest, they decided, contacting Crowley a safe distance away, Morgan wasn't as hopeful as she sounded to her brothers about the demon's help, but he really was the only chance they had for the spell working.

Dean assumed the spell would only work on turned vampires, he said they couldn't possibly get lucky enough for it to be powerful against those born with the blood, especially not the Alpha. Sam and Morgan had to agree with him about the Alpha and he made a point about those born with the affliction, they had a type of magic in their own right and would have more immunity to the spell than a human body infected with the condition. Still, there would naturally be more turned vampires than born ones in the fight and it would prove a helpful weapon to have.

Sitting on the beds in the guest room they had stumbled into, the Winchesters lost track of time as they discussed the intricacies of their plan, though each of them knew the likelihood of it all coming together the way they envisioned was not high. A knock on the door stole their attention from the animated conversation and, at Dean's call, Fox walked in with a smile.

"Y'all hungry?" he asked, "Makin' steaks 'n mashed potatoes."

"Really?" Dean was on his feet in a second.

"Jack, the guy who owns this place," Fox began, "he keeps it well stocked, always welcomes hunters. Guess he was one'a the first one's to offer up a place when this whole thing started. Some the people were here for months."

"Wow," Sam said, "Is he a hunter?"

Fox laughed as they followed him from the room, "Politician. Had a run in with a wraith, well she was his secretary, scared the hell outta him, but got saved in the knick'a time. Actually, it was Daniel Elkins who saved him. When I talked t'Jack the other day 'n told him I met Elkins's grandson, man he lost it!"

Morgan smiled, but then her stomach twisted sadly, she missed Bryan.

"So, what?" Dean asked, "He just bought a mountain and built a safe house in it for hunters?"

"He built it for himself," Fox corrected, "He's kind of an end of days, stock your bunker guy, but he's generous to the hunting community, guess we can thank Elkins for that."

The kitchen was packed when they walked in, hunters were sitting at the table and standing at the counters to eat, even spilling into the hallways. Max and Alicia had just grabbed plates and Fox told them he'd meet them in the dining room, to which the twins nodded and left without a word, neither met Morgan's eyes.

She wondered if they were mad at her as she filled her plate from the trays of hot food on the counter, but they had no reason to be. For some reason she was reminded of Kelly ignoring Morgan after she'd told Patrick she didn't want to go to the dance with him, which of course was fruitless anyway, but if Max and Alicia were mad at her for them getting in trouble, well then Morgan had a few things she'd like to say about that.

Fox led them to the dining room, not as full, but half of the long table was occupied by shifty-eyed, flannel wearing hunters, the twins sat on the opposite end by themselves. Morgan tried to smile at them as she sat across from Max, but both were very interested in their food. Sam, Dean and Fox all started eating their steaks like they hadn't seen food in days, but Morgan picked at her mashed potatoes, her eyes trained on Max and pushed a single thought into his mind.

'You better not be made at me,' her thought was mildly threatening and Max finally lifted his gaze to hers, simply smirking and shaking his head a little.

Morgan grinned and started in on her steak.

\------------------------------------------------------------------

It seemed every turn led down another corridor and every corridor had a line of doors, not to mention the stairway Morgan found. She, Sam and Dean snuck up the steps, but were blocked by a metal door that no amount of lock-picking would open, relenting after a few minutes and joining a few other hunters in the kitchen, where'd they been heading to continue discussion of the plan with everyone.

Morgan still felt the need to stay close to both her brothers when around the others, some of them stared at her in a way that made her uneasy, and not in a grotesquely intriguing way, they wanted to hurt her. She stayed quiet, unsure how she could make them trust her, or at least understand she was there to help.

A heavy clanging sounded down the hall and everyone jumped to their feet, Dean pushed Morgan behind him and Sam. Guns were drawn and Walt, nearest to the doorway the sound had echoed from, jerked his head for Roy to follow, but before he even took a step from the room, the bald man from the pictures in the hallway appeared at the threshold.

He was much shorter than all the men in the room, perhaps only a little taller than Morgan, though nearly as wide as he was tall, and wore an expensive gray suit with a smile that reached both ears.

"My friends, I'm so glad you are here," he opened his arms in greeting and a few hunters lowered their guns, but most had to have Fox physically push the weapons down at their sides as he approached the man.

"Jack, I didn't know you were coming," Fox said with surprise, but hurried to shake the man's hand, "Asa Fox, so good to meet you in person."

"Fox! Wonderful, yes, I thought I'd drop by and express my gratitude to everyone," Jack's smile didn't falter as he looked around the room of scowling hunters.

"This place is more than thanks enough, trust me," Fox assured him.

"Is the, uh," Jack glanced around before directing his question at Fox, "the young man here?"

"Not yet," Fox said, "soon, I think. Dean?"

"Yeah," Dean answered immediately, but sounded taken back he was called on.

"When's Bryan gettin' in?" he asked.

"Last text I got was an hour ago," Dean said, "they're headin' in from St. Louis, should be here late tonight."

Morgan sighed to herself, saddened that Bryan had texted her brother and not her, she pulled out her phone, just to send him a little note and saw his message from an hour before waiting to be read on the screen.

'I miss you like crazy, see you soon.'

She vaguely heard Jack's excitement over his anticipation of Bryan arriving while her stomach fluttered with her own. Morgan feverishly typed back, 'Can't wait, I miss you too!'

"Are you also Elkinses?" Jack's question was directed at Sam, Dean and Morgan, who glanced at each other as a few hunters chuckled.

"We're Winchesters," Dean's tone lowered a bit as he answered.

"Winchesters?" Jack said as if he was talking to himself, "I know that name, I swear I know that name."

"FBI most wanted list," one of the hunters mumbled and a few laughed, Morgan scowled in the direction of the slight.

"Henriksen!" Jack seemed to ignore anything was said at all and pointed excitedly at Sam and Dean, "You too drove that man mad from what I heard!"

"Yeah," Dean scoffed lightly, "Victor was a good guy, in the end."

"Died when that police building randomly exploded, right?" Jack commented, "Terrible."

"He was killed by a demon," Sam said, "Not an explosion."

"Oh," Jack's eyebrows raised in surprise, "well, that's, there's aren't words."

It was quiet for a moment in respect of the FBI agent and others killed by Lilith in the attack, Morgan knew that time was hard for Sam to think about and leaned into him a little, feeling his hand find her shoulder immediately.

"How'd you get in here?" another hunter asked Jack.

"You think I'd fit in that emergency cavern?" the politician laughed at the door off the kitchen, "I have a few ways I like to keep, my own. Haven't had to come down here since those leviathans were taking over everything."

"You knew about that?" Dean asked in shock.

"Of course," Jack nodded, "That Dick guy, well it's in the name isn't it, I figured there was somethin' wrong, and when my buddy Frank called-"

"You knew Frank?" Sam asked quickly.

"Frank foil on his head Devereaux?" Dean clarified.

"Who'd you think helped me design and build this place?" Jack smiled.

Sam and Dean looked up and around and then at each other before smirking in agreement.

"Yeah, a little fancier than Frank's taste," Dean said, "but inside a mountain, that's him. Le'me guess, front door's a trap?"

"Oh you can get in," Jack's smile became almost menacing as he spoke, "but it leads to a room that immediately locks from the outside, impossible to break out from."

"Ain't nothin' impossible," one hunter scoffed challengingly.

"You obviously didn't know Frank," Dean remarked, hardly looking in the man's direction.

Jack was very interested in Sam and Dean, all the other hunters, besides Fox, slowly filtered out of the kitchen as the plump man continued to pepper the boys with questions. Neither gave very detailed or straight-forward answers, Morgan found it almost amusing to watch Jack continue trying to pry while her brothers grinned at each other before giving another vague response.

"I'm so very sorry, my dear," Jack finally turned to Morgan after several minutes of interviewing Sam and Dean, "I've completing forgotten my manners with these star-struck eyes. Is this your sister?"

Morgan and Dean smiled in happy shock at each other and Sam scoffed with surprise.

"Yeah," Dean nodded, "everyone thinks she's my kid."

"No," Jack chuckled, shaking his head, "You're far too young and have been a bit busy I think for that," he chuckled again, "but you do look remarkably alike. I'm Jack McKay, Secretary of the Interior."

"Morgan Winchester," she shook his hand, "teenage witch."

His jaw dropped open as his eyes widened and Morgan felt both her brothers glaring at her, but she looked at the politician proudly as he released her hand.

"A witch?" he repeated and his face returned to a smile, "Fox's boy and you?! My goodness," he shifted his gaze to Sam and Dean, "maybe I should pick up hunting if all these pretty witches are around."

"That's why we do it," Dean said.

"You must know Fox's boy?" Jack asked Morgan, "I haven't met him, he only told me when we've spoken. He's about your age, isn't he?"

Morgan felt her cheeks heat a little as the older man spoke and smirked at her brothers, both of whom rolled their eyes.

"We've already got one boy t'worry about with her, Jack," Dean said.

"She's too beautiful to only have one boy chasin' her," the older man chuckled, "I bet you two have scared quite a few of them away."

"Well, one doesn't take a hint," Dean smirked and gave Morgan a wink, his phone buzzed at that moment and Dean leaned back in his chair to pull it from his pocket, "looks like they'll be here in about three hours, but service is gettin' spotty."

"The Elkins boy or the one who doesn't take a hint?" Jack asked.

"Yes," Dean nodded.

Jack turned to Morgan with his large smile, "So, he is one in the same?"

Morgan blushed, glanced at her smirking brothers for help, but they were uselessly trying not to laugh, and turned back to the politician, "Mr. McKay, I've wondered, what exactly is the Secretary of the Interior?"

Sam and Dean apparently couldn't help the boisterous laughter that escaped briefly as Jack chuckled and nodded understandingly before he answered.

"Somedays, my girl, I don't even know anymore."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading! Can't wait to hear what you think!


	45. Chapter 45

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Story Update: I'm really cutting it close here on the length of this story, but I figured I should start telling you now we're coming to the end of this one. I'm trying to write Morgan's story as sort of it's own "season", Witch Winchester was her first, this has been the (almost obnoxiously) long second and there will be a third, and final, installment of her series since clearly not everything will be getting wrapped up here. There's plenty more coming, I just wanted to let my avid readers know that when this story is marked complete there will still be more on the way, just in a new story that isn't 50 fricking chapters long- my god seriously, her entire story as of right now is 274,721 words- I think I should get an award for insanity.
> 
> Thank you so much to those of you who have stuck with her and those of who have found her and brought this little witch into your hearts, I appreciate the time you take to write feedback or even just a quick note to put a smile on my face and let me know you're reading- it makes my day you don't even know =)
> 
> Please enjoy this chapter, I'll warn for a few well placed swats from our favorite oldest brother, but nothing to get you too excited in that regard (sorry to disappoint)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey everyone! Texas could really use some help right now! If you haven't donated to Jensen's Family Business Beer Company's Random Acts Hurricane Harvey Relief Fund and can, please do! The average donation has been $30 and it's raised over $135k as of right now, literally every $10 helps and it all goes to the cause!

Jack seemed almost as impatient for Bryan to arrive as Morgan was, though she had successfully avoided answering the politician's questions about the handsome young man. He didn't seem completely maniacal, but Morgan was glad when Sam stayed with Max, Alicia and her as Dean and Fox trekked into the woods to meet Bryan and Claire. She felt validated in her opinions when Sam expressed apprehension over Jack's interest, though agreed they didn't think the man was evil.

In the living room, neither Max or Alicia suggested turning on the television, which suited Morgan just fine, especially when Max had the idea that they transfigure a pair of bookends into frogs and race them. Sam and Alicia placed bets of sibling solidarity, but the frogs were very evenly matched and at one point no one was sure exactly who's was who's anymore and the competition ended with boisterous laughter.

"Well you sound like you're all having fun in here," Jack commented with a smile as he entered the living room, "Frogs! My goodness," he chuckled, "Where did you get those?"

"Sorry," Morgan grimaced, "we made them, we were just playin' around."

"No apologies my dear," the plump man shook his head feverishly, "You made them? How wonderful! Magic is just so amazing, isn't it? And you two, well you must be very skilled hunters with those talents!"

Max and Morgan glanced at each other and couldn't help laughing.

"Morgan helps Dean 'n I out," Sam explained, "but she doesn't get in on the front line action."

"Why not?" Jack scoffed with a smile, "She'd be brilliant! Imagine the monsters they could rid the world of!"

"She does a great job of helping rid the world of monsters with exactly what she does now," Sam's tone was lower and Morgan saw his shoulders pull back, using more of his height, something he only did to be intimidating, which he didn't need much more help with anyway.

"But can you imagine," Jack insisted, "if she was there-"

"Sir," Sam said curtly, "that's my little sister. She's not hunting."

"Oh, of course," Jack nodded apologetically, "yes, I didn't mean anything, I am sorry, it's just that this world is so, it just gets me very excited to have a chance to make a change. No red tape, no bureaucracy, just solving problems by whatever means you have, but of course, I understand, I overstepped, again, deepest apologies."

Sam nodded at the man, though Morgan could tell he was just as uncomfortable with the dramatic apology as she was.

"Is there any chance," Jack smiled at Morgan and then Max, "I could beg you two to show me how you made those frogs?"

The witches smirked at each other, happy to accept the invitation to show off their magic.

Jack was enthralled as Morgan changed her frog into a bird, laughing almost madly as the little Blue Jay flittered around his head, his reaction reminded her of Channing and Morgan hoped the toddler was happily in his father's arms at that moment. Max turned the other frog into a yellow finch and the two colorful birds circled each other, diving and soaring around the living room as Jack clapped his hands with excitement.

The politician rained compliments down on them, repeatedly commenting to Sam how proud he must be to have such a talented girl for a sister, once making the same remark to Alicia about Max, but, after a mutter of agreement, she found the seat next to Sam, essentially hiding herself from Jack and he seemed to forget she was there. Morgan and Max enjoyed performing spell after spell, trying to outdo each other, nearly forgetting they had an audience.

She cupped her hands, creating an ember of purple flames, focusing as she spread her fingers, pulling her hands apart with a rope of violet fire spinning in the air. Moving her arms precisely, Morgan tossed the stream of fire into the air, halting it above her as the ends met and a burning circle flickered over her head. With a small motion of her finger, the circle began to spin faster, and a wave of her other hand made it race around the room a few feet above everyone's heads. Even Max stopped to watch.

When the wheel of fire returned to Morgan a second time, she clapped her hands together and a cloud of purple smoke engulfed her, she heard applause as the fog cleared. The group clapping in the doorway made her heart skip and her feet moved towards them without thought.

"Bryan!" she exclaimed, "Claire!"

The others were just hurrying off their seats as Morgan wrapped her arms around Bryan's neck, noting the small movement of his head as a silent request to not try to kiss him in the current setting, she couldn't disagree, simply appreciating his strong arms holding her tightly for a moment.

"What am I," Claire scoffed lightly as she hugged her friend, "chopped liver?"

"I missed you," Morgan returned the blonde's squeeze, "How was the trip?"

"Decent," Claire nodded, "Bryan listens t'good music."

"What's that s'posed t'mean?" Dean scowled a little at her.

"Nothin'," Claire smirked.

"Excuse me," Jack took everyone's attention as he approached rather tentatively, his eyes on Bryan, "Is this the young man?"

"Uh, yeah," Dean nodded, "Bryan Elkins this is Jack McKay, the guy who owns this place I was tellin' you about."

"Yeah, hi," Bryan shook the man's hand with a forced smile, but Jack looked over the moon.

"Oh my boy," the politician continued to shake Bryan's hand with his other clapped over the top, his smile somehow even wider, "it is such a pleasure to meet you. Your grandfather, Daniel, what a man! Saved my life you know? I could never repay him, not that he ever let me, nearly impossible to find that man!"

"Yeah," Bryan was clearly uncomfortable as Jack didn't release his hand, "Gran'pa was kind of a loaner."

"And here you are," Jack finally let go of Bryan's hand, putting both of his in the air in an awed gesture, "following in his footsteps, saving people, hunting things, I bet you're just as good as he was too."

"No sir," Bryan shook his head, "I got a long way t'go."

"He does," Dean clapped a hand on Bryan's shoulder and pulled the young man a step back, "but he picks up quick."

"I'm sure," Jack agreed enthusiastically, "it's in your blood isn't it, son?"

Morgan felt the tension settling around them as Dean and Bryan's expressions hardened together. Jack was still smiling, but Fox glanced between their host and the oldest Winchester's cold gaze, stepping in quickly.

"I think we should all start turnin' in," Fox's grin was awkward as he spoke, "headin' out tomorrow after an early mornin' briefin' now that everybody's here."

"Yes, yes," Jack nodded, "of course. I'll be departing early, I do really hope you enjoy your accommodations here, it's been so wonderful to meet you all."

"It's too much Jack," Fox assured the man with a smile.

"It really is," Dean agreed in a deep growl.

\-------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Morgan and Claire's room was right next to the one Bryan was sharing with her brothers, Jack had insisted the young man take one of the suites on a different level, but after a firm protest by both him and Dean, the politician ceased his offer.

"Is this place weird to you?" Claire asked after they'd changed into pajamas and sat on either bed.

"Super," Morgan nodded, "we're in a mountain."

"That guy Jack," she continued, "he seems off, y'know?"

"Yeah," Morgan agreed, "Sam 'n I were talkin' about him earlier, I mean, he's a politician, those guys are always weird, but he's really fascinated by the supernatural world."

"That's weird," Claire said, "for a politician, not t'mention he's got a thing for Bryan. What's that all about?"

"Bryan's Grandpa saved his life," Morgan reminded her, "I think he just wants t'repay some old debt or somethin', I don't know."

"I get it," the blonde shrugged, "this place still gives me the creeps though."

"Me too," she said, glancing around the richly adorned guest room and mahogany bedposts, "I'm not gonna be able t'sleep in here."

"Me either," Claire agreed, shifting her eyes at the door, "You don't wanna?"

"Yup," Morgan nodded and they both giggled as they slid off the beds, pulling the blankets and pillows into their arms and slipped into the hallway.

Morgan knocked lightly on the boys' door and in a very quick moment it opened.

"I win," Dean smiled at Sam and gestured the girls into the room, "pay up, brother."

"Three more minutes girls," Sam chuckled as he dug a ten-dollar bill from his pocket, "Couldn't give me three minutes?"

"Nice," Claire scoffed lightly, "placin' bets on our emotions in this creepy ass place?"

"Relax," Dean laughed, snatching the money from his brother, "if you two hadn't come in here in the next half hour we were gonna go get'cha."

"I think y'r'all overreacting," Sam shook his head with an amused grin.

"Well that guy wasn't lookin' at you like he was tryin' t'decide what side dish would go best," Bryan remarked and Sam offered him a conceding nod.

"No doubt the guy's got a few screws loose," Dean agreed, "I don't think he's a monster, literally or figuratively, but I'm not gonna take the chance either way."

"Want me t'set up a protection spell?" Morgan jerked her head at the door.

"Can you do something that won't kill or maim someone?" Dean raised an eyebrow.

"You're no fun," Morgan smirked, "Of course, I actually have one I found in one of the Men of Letter's books, it's like a magic spider web, it doesn't hurt, at least it didn't express that it would, and whoever tries to cross it gets stuck until they're released by the caster."

"Sounds good," Sam said, "Can we still bypass it if we have contact with you while you're doin' it?"

"Should," Morgan nodded.

"Let's do this then," Dean said.

"One second," Morgan stared at the door and it swung open a moment later as her duffel bag flew into the room and stopped at her feet.

"Gee thanks," Claire mumbled, but the blonde's bag turned through the doorway as the words came out and she grinned at her friend, "I love you."

It didn't take her long to find the spell once Morgan pulled the large volume from her bag, but it was possibly the worst sensation she'd ever experienced as Bryan's warm hand wrapped around her arm while Sam's was on the other and Dean's on the back of her neck. She performed the spell quickly, stifling a smile when Bryan squeezed her arm inconspicuously before letting go.

Everyone was tired and the conversation trailed away. The girls slowly fell asleep on one of the beds while Sam and Dean occasionally kicked the other's leg away from their sides of the second four-poster queen and Bryan continued lightly snoring on the couch, as he had been for at least half an hour before the rest.

He and Claire had recounted their trip with Bess and Channing, having met Garth in St. Louis and both agreeing he looked like he'd seen some action. Garth had told the young hunters very little about what he'd been doing since they last saw him, but he had assured them many werewolves had been saved by the heads up about the Maw's plans. He'd let slip that a counter army was being formed, a protective militia he'd called it, werewolves willing to fight the Maw, not just run from them. Morgan had wondered if those vigilante lycanthropes knew there was an army of demons behind the Maw of Fenris, though she doubted they did. Most creatures, monsters included, avoided certain death when possible.

\-----------------------------------------------------------------

"Up 'n at 'em," Dean's voice was accompanied by a hand gently shaking her shoulder until Morgan blinked her eyes open at her brother, "Mornin'."

"No," Morgan mumbled and turned over, closing her eyes again.

"C'mon," Dean urged, "breakfast, meeting 'n then we're all gettin' on the road, Claire 'n Bryan are already in there."

"S'early," she whined and her blanket was pulled off in nearly the same moment a solid swat met her pajama covered bottom, "Hey!"

"Well, that worked," Dean chuckled, "C'mon, let's go."

"Why y'gotta be a jerk?" Morgan snapped, sliding off the bed.

"Why y'gotta be a brat?" Dean smirked.

"Whatever," she scoffed, bending down to grab her bag from the floor, but stood up quickly with a hand covering her backside as a harder smack landed.

"Lose the attitude," her brother ordered firmly, "or I'll lose it for ya. Understood?"

"Yes, sir," Morgan muttered, keeping her eyes down to avoid glaring at him.

"Let's go," he said and left the bedroom, Morgan offered the closed door a very rude hand gesture before pulling her jeans out of her duffel.

She dressed quickly and waved her hands at the doorway to clear the protection spell from the previous night. Dean was waiting in the hallway when she left the room.

"Take that spell down would'ja?" he jerked his head at the doorway.

"Already did," she grumbled while walking towards the kitchen.

"Hey, grump-ass," Dean growled, halting her advance away from him with a firm grip on her arm, "I'm tired too, cut it out 'n let's get some coffee. Okay?"

"Yeah, okay," Morgan nodded, she was admittedly being a bit grumpy for no reason.

"Good," he released her arm and they walked quietly down the hall.

Again, the kitchen was overflowing with hunters, they'd filled the chairs and several sat around the counters with paper plates of eggs and toast in their hands. Claire, Bryan and Sam were leaned in a corner talking to Max and Alicia when Morgan and Dean walked in, pushing a bit through the crowd to the others. Morgan furrowed her brow in confusion when Max and Bryan threw their heads back in laughter at a joke she didn't hear, but smiled as she approached them.

"Hey, look who's up," Bryan winked at her and Morgan rolled her eyes.

"Yeah, yeah," she scoffed lightly, "I was promised coffee."

"And look at that," Bryan grinned, offering her the full mug in his hand, "I just poured it, I'll grab another."

"Thanks," Morgan took the cup, feeling warmth hitting her cheeks before even lifting the hot liquid to her lips.

"Hey, since y'r'servin'," Dean raised his eyebrows with a small grin at Bryan as he maneuvered his way to the coffee machine and the young man gave him a thumbs up.

"So what," one of the men straddling a chair got the group's attention, but his eyes were focused between Sam and Dean, "you two startin' a school f'r'hunters 'r somethin'?"

"Better than lettin' 'em go out 'n kill themselves," Dean growled.

"How 'bout start an apocalypse?" the man scoffed.

Dean put a hand over Sam's chest, stopping his brother from taking a step towards the smirking hunter, but he obviously did not anticipate his sister's temper.

"You got somethin' t'say?" Morgan snapped, glowering down at the broad man as she took a few steps forward.

He laughed, "S'this y'r'new guard dog? What happened t'the angel? Y'all break-up?"

"I will melt the skin off your face," Morgan growled the threat in a low voice, but saw a few others back away as the man she was scowling at paled.

Her brothers' hands were on both shoulders, pulling her back between them, and the three watched as the hunter stumbled off his chair, taking a few steps backwards until he bumped into the table.

"Y'r'sister's a psychopath," his voice was nervous and he barely took his eyes off the witch between her brothers.

"Have y'met us?" Dean smirked.

"C'mon, Charlie," another hunter patted the man's shoulder, "we're all on the same team here."

"I ain't ever on the side of a witch," Charlie spat.

"That's prob'lly why you never hunt anything more powerful than a Wendigo," Sam growled, holding Morgan firmly by the shoulder as she tried to step forward again.

"Fuck you," Charlie scowled, "least I don't chum it up with demons 'n have a goddamn witch in my family tree."

"Hey!" Fox barked, having just walked into the tense kitchen, "You watch y'r'mouth Charlie!"

Charlie and the other hunters turned to Fox and a few shifted their gaze to Max before the man muttered an apology, "Sorry, Fox, I didn't mean you."

"That don't make it okay," Fox said firmly to Charlie before addressing the entire room, "Any'a you not want Sam and Dean Winchester here? Show a hands, c'mon! Which'a you wants t'go into this fight without them?" no one spoke or moved a muscle, not even Charlie, "How 'bout havin' a witch wipe out a ton'a those vamps before we even gotta get our hands dirty? Anybody not okay with that plan?" again, none of the hunters spoke, several hung their heads as Fox continued, "Then stow y'r'crap 'n let's do this."

A grumble of agreement echoed through the kitchen and several hunters dispersed with the altercation settled, including Charlie.

"So, you guys just make friends everywhere, huh?" Bryan handed Dean a cup of coffee with a funny grin.

"Family trait," Dean lifted his mug in a personal toast and took a sip, "Morgan, don't threaten t'melt people's faces off."

"I'd've let her," Sam growled.

"And that's why I'm the oldest," Dean said.

"Alright," Fox approached the group, "everybody cool?"

"Yeah," Dean said, glancing between his siblings with a single raised eyebrow, "we're all good."

"Good," Fox nodded, "let's get this meeting started, I wanna get outta here."

"What's up?" Sam asked.

"That Jack guy just gives me the creeps," Fox muttered, looking behind him as he spoke, "he's way too interested in all'a this, I mean he's a nice guy, just, too nice, y'know?"

"Oh yeah," Dean agreed.

"Is he still here?" Morgan asked.

"I wish I knew," Fox shook his head, "He just pops up outta nowhere, I think he's got secret passages around here."

"Wouldn't surprise me," Dean shrugged, "it's a crazy Frank design, there's probably a snake pit somewhere if y'go in the wrong door."

"Why'd it hafta be snakes?" Bryan sighed dramatically and Morgan inclined her head at him, but Dean smiled and raised a hand to high five the young man as Sam chuckled and shook his head.

"What am I missing?" Morgan looked at Claire.

"Besides y'r'brother 'n y'r'boyfriend's bromance?" Claire giggled, "Just y'r'usual lack of pop cultural savvy."

Morgan couldn't help giggling with her as they watched Bryan and Dean laughing between the movie quotes they were reciting to each other.

Sam threw an arm around his sister and rolled his eyes as he chuckled, "Y'still got me."

Morgan grinned and leaned her head on his chest, "Good, 'cause y'r'my favorite."

Dean turned with a feigned offended expression and scoffed, "What?"

"Sorry, bro," she shrugged, "he did give me his car."

"I did not," Sam smirked.

Everyone had a good laugh before leaving the kitchen to join the hunters in the larger dining room, it was best they had a moment of amusement as the room they entered was tense and serious. Fox began the final explanation of the plan, saying if someone didn't have it memorized by now they might as well not be part of it, and conferred to Dean several times throughout his speech before the oldest Winchester was facilitating with Sam at his side.

"We're gonna hit 'em with the spell when we're about a half mile from the house," Sam said, "We're gonna hafta hustle 'cause when their guys start droppin' they'll know somethin's up."

"We should do it closer," one of the hunters interjected, "Why don't we just do it when we get there? We'll be right on top of 'em."

The rest of the hunters agreed boisterously.

"This is how we're doin' it," Dean said firmly in a raised voice.

"Hey man," another one spoke up, "no disrespect, but we're gonna be in a lot less danger if they have less notice that we're there, you gotta see that."

Morgan's stomach twisted, knowing full well her brothers had planned the distance for her safety, but couldn't help the guilt swirling at the idea that the rest of them were in more danger because of it.

"Look, guys," Sam began.

"Sam, Dean?" Morgan interrupted and her brothers' eyes, as well as everyone else's, turned to her, "Can I talk t'you a minute?"

Sam looked to his brother who was still staring incredulously at their sister before shifting his eyes to Sam and sighing as he turned to leave the room. Morgan hurried along the table, ignoring the hunters staring at her as she followed her brothers into the hallway and out of earshot.

"You don't interrupt a meeting like that, Morgan!" Dean growled as soon as he spun around on her.

"I'm sorry, but-" she tried.

"No!" Dean cut her off angrily, "I know what y'r'gonna say, it's not happening."

"But Dean, those guys, you two, Bryan, Claire," Morgan's mind raced with the faces of people who were walking into an impossible fight after firing a warning shot.

"Morgan, it's done," Dean said firmly.

"Dean," Sam sighed, "We gotta rethink this, man."

"You too?" Dean scoffed in disbelief.

"I just think they have a point," Sam shrugged, "Can we at least talk about how we could do it safely?"

"Safely?" Dean asked with bitter sarcasm, "How we can take her to the front door of the Alpha's house t'cast this spell and then what? Hand her a machete so she can join us?"

"No!" Sam snapped, quickly lowering his tone, "But what if she did it before we start in on the house 'n Bryan gets her the hell outta there while we go in for the kill? You said you didn't want him in there anyway, he's not ready."

"But you wanna leave him 'n her alone in a car together?" Dean laughed in either anger or surprise, Morgan couldn't tell.

"I think it's the lesser of two evils right now," Sam said.

Dean was quiet, shaking his head as he looked from his brother to his sister and back, before finally releasing a frustrated growl, "Fine, but I swear Morgan, I might like the kid, but I will skin him alive. And you, oh you, you won't see the light of day."

She nodded her understanding, keeping her expression as still and neutral as possible, doing her best to smother the goofy smile she felt pushing beneath her cheeks from erupting on her face.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> THIS CHAPTER HAS BEEN BROUGHT TO YOU BY INSOMNIA, ALCOHOL AND YOUR INTEREST- PLEASE TELL THE CRAZY REVIEW WHORE WHAT YOU THINK =)


	46. Chapter 46

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Would it kill me to go a direction people actually expect? Probably not, but why take the chance? I love that you guys like the banter in this story, personally I think that's what makes the show so it means so much to me that you guys think what I've created is realistic to the boys'. I'm sorry to disappoint with Morgan's story wrapping up, but the third and final installment will be out less than a week after the next chapter finishes this one, watch out for "Legends Never Die". I did the math and Morgan's stories at this point are legit the size of 3 average books at this moment, so I really hope everyone has enjoyed what I've done, but understand that this has been a lot of work and will be exceptionally satisfying when it's over. There are a lot of unfinished stories out there and I do not intend for her's to be one of them.
> 
> Warning for a quick, necessary swat to our favorite, bratty witch... and sidenote for anyone who doesn't live in a place graced with UberEats, it's wonderful, McDonald's delivered to my work- seriously what could be better, anyone just keep that in mind if you're unfamiliar.
> 
> Please enjoy as we pick up a bit towards the end here and I always love to hear what you think!

Fox had parked his Jeep further up the mountain than the Impala and Buick could make it, and their group bid a temporary good-bye to the twins and their father as they continued through the forest. Dean led and Sam trailed as usual, Morgan again found herself sandwiched between the group, though at least this time Claire and Bryan stood far enough on either side of her it was possible to have a conversation.

"So, how are we gettin' all this stuff y'need f'r'that spell?" Bryan asked.

"Your favorite person," Morgan grinned.

"Is he technically a person?" Claire asked.

"Great," Bryan sighed, "Castiel can't help us out?"

"Dude had his wings clipped years ago," Dean called back, "all the angels did when they fell, gotta move around like the rest'a us apes now."

"Well that sucks," Bryan said.

"Trust me," Sam scoffed, "Crowley's the last guy I wanna call for help, but he's our necessary evil, literally."

"When d'ya want me t'call him?" Morgan asked.

"I'll let'cha know," Dean said.

They continued through the trees, there was no path and had to force their way over and through a few brushes, scurrying rodents as they trekked down the mountain. A screech overhead stole Morgan's attention and everyone stopped when she did, staring into the sky at the large, predatory bird circling them.

"No way," she smiled, but was sure it was.

"Elsu?" Claire asked in disbelief.

The falcon swooped towards them, landing perfectly on a branch overhead.

"Definitely," Morgan affirmed, stepping towards the familiar creature and locking her eyes on his.

' _Morgan_ ,' Elsu spread his wings momentarily, ' _I knew it must be, I sensed your presence_.'

' _How?_ ' she shook her head, ' _No, I'm sure it's because, never mind, Elsu, I'm so glad you found me. How are you?'_

 _'I have eaten the strangest little creatures_ ,' he snapped his beak happily, ' _and flown a great distance, there is so much to see in this outside.'_

' _Yes_ ,' Morgan smiled, ' _there is.'_

' _What are you here to see?'_  Elsu cocked his head all the way to one side.

' _We're on our way to save people,'_  Morgan nodded proudly.

' _Oh_ ,' the falcon's head straightened quickly, ' _Well, if it makes you anywhere near as happy as snatching up these little vermin makes me, I'm sure it will be a wonderful journey._ '

' _Thank you,_ ' she stifled a giggled, ' _I'm so glad you found me._ '

' _As am I,_ ' Elsu bowed his head, ' _I shall again if I feel you near._ '

 _'I look forward to it,_ ' Morgan watched as the beautiful falcon took flight and was soaring over the trees again, out of sight in a matter of moments.

"How the hell did that happen?" Dean scoffed in happy shock.

"It must be because I made him," Morgan turned to the group with excitement, "Falcons are highly intelligent already, but he's well, a magic falcon."

"So, what," Sam began, "he just knew you were here?"

"Yeah," she smiled.

"How?" Dean repeated.

"Again," Morgan sighed, "magic falcon, man, I don't know, and I don't think there's been a whole lotta research done on the subject."

"If there has it's in our library," Sam added and Dean shrugged in agreement.

Elsu's pit stop was the topic of conversation the entire rest of the way to their cars, parked next to each other in the desolate clearing.

Claire hopped into the passenger seat of Bryan's car without a word and Dean didn't say anything to stop her as he told Bryan to follow him and dropped behind the wheel of the Impala. Morgan scowled at Claire while she got in the backseat behind her brothers, her grinning friend waved at her and she inconspicuously offered a rude hand gesture before shutting the rear door. Morgan couldn't help smirking to herself, always enjoying those funny altercations with Claire, neither ever took them seriously, even if at the moment Morgan was insanely jealous that her friend was riding with Bryan.

"Alright," Dean turned the radio down after they'd been driving for a few miles on an actual road, "Why don'cha give Crowley a ring, see if he answers."

Morgan pulled her phone from her jacket pocket, giggling at a middle finger emoji Claire had sent her around the time they'd left the clearing, and swiped to Crowley's name on her favorites list, it really irritated her brothers and she thought that was hilarious. It rang twice before the gravelly voice on the other end spoke.

"Darling, so good to hear from you."

"Hey, Crowley," Morgan crooned slightly, grinning at Dean's narrowing eyes in the rearview mirror, "Are you busy?"

"I'm never too busy for you, my Dear," the demon assured her, "What does my favorite witch need?"

Morgan giggled, partially to annoy her brothers, partially because Crowley really was very flattering when he wanted to be, "I really need some kinda weird stuff for a spell 'n you're the only one I trust t'help me."

"You mean I'm the only one who can get this weird stuff for you?" his question was silky smooth, with a hint of amusement.

"But you're also the best," Morgan said sweetly.

"Text me what you need, Darling," Crowley sighed, "I'll see what I can do."

"Thank you," she said sincerely and they hung up the phone.

"So we good?" Dean asked a little roughly.

"I'm textin' him the ingredients now," Morgan said as she typed on the phone screen.

' _Roots of a Tree of Heaven, freshly harvested fangs of a fruit bat and scales of an unborn Salmonidae. Also, I'm really thirsty if you're feeling generous and would love a coke ;) Thanks again, Crowley, you really are the best!'_

_'I'm not UberEats Morgan.'_

She smiled at the response and slipped her phone back in her pocket, but retracting the vibrating device only half of Def Leppard's  _Rock of Ages_  later.

 _'Where are you?'_  Crowley's message was simple and Morgan hit the button to send him her location.

"Hey, Crowley's asking where we are," she told her brothers.

"Don't tell him," Sam said.

"Well that's rather rude, Samantha," Crowley said from his seat directly behind the tallest Winchester and Morgan had to grab hold of the front seat as the Impala swerved madly before halting on the side of the road.

"I kinda already did," Morgan grimaced apologetically at her scowling brothers.

"We can see that," Dean growled.

"Hello, boys," Crowley grinned, plopping a brown paper bag in Morgan's lap, "Just doing my part for you while I can."

"What's that s'posed t'mean?" Dean asked.

"It's all the talk around Hell," Crowley leaned back against the leather, "Dagon is certainly fired up to get revenge now that she's been humiliated by you, twice. She's struggled to keep any demons loyal, only a few dozen Lucifer and Lilith loyalists have stayed with her, though she has full control over Phelan and his flea ridden army, but a few werewolves shouldn't be much trouble for you three I imagine. Where are Grumpy and Dopey anyway?" Dean's eyes only betrayed him for a moment, but Crowley turned and glanced out the back windshield at the idling Grand National behind them before focusing again on the Winchesters, "Nice car. Anyway, I thank you for your help ridding that awful bitch from my kingdom and believe we are now, what is it you say, square?"

"We're never square," Sam and Dean growled in unison.

"Well," Crowley smirked at Morgan, "I tried, good luck to you, Darling."

She was again alone on the backseat, holding the paper bag in her lap.

"Jackass," Dean said to himself as he turned around and put the Impala in drive.

"Got everything?" Sam asked.

Morgan peered inside the bag, noting everything was there, but couldn't help a grin as she pulled out an ice, cold bottle of Coke.

"Seriously?" Sam scoffed as she popped the cap and took a sip.

"What?" she smiled, "Just 'cause you don't like him doesn't mean I can't."

"He's the King of Hell," Sam flatly.

"Long live the King," Morgan raised her Coke in a personal toast and took another sip, finishing with a refreshing sigh.

Before he could retort again, Sam's phone rang and he rolled his eyes at his sister before swiping the screen and holding it to his ear.

"Hello? – Hey, Jody! – Right, well we just left a little while ago 'n are currently headed t'that motel in New Orleans. You on y'r'way? – Okay, cool, you'll beat us there. We'll be gettin' in around," Sam glanced at his brother.

"Five, five thirty," Dean said.

"Five-ish," Sam returned to his phone conversation, "Yeah, we'll see y'then. – You two, Jody."

"Jody close?" Dean asked.

"Yeah," Sam nodded, "'bout an hour outta New Orleans."

"How far are we?" Morgan asked.

"Nine," Dean said.

"Hours?!" she exclaimed, sighing dramatically when her brothers nodded and sunk into the backseat.

"Look out the window 'r somethin'," Dean suggested.

"I'm good," she rolled her eyes, pulling out her phone and digging in her backpack for her headphones, "I got Netflix."

"Y'r'gonna suck up all the data," Dean protested.

"That you pay for with stolen credit cards," Morgan scoffed lightly, "When do you even use apps anyway?"

"I don't," the oldest said, "but Sammy needs t'check his E-Harmony account at least every hour."

"Yeah," Sam responded dryly, "I borrowed your screenname, hope you don't mind, Impala sixty-seven."

Morgan laughed out loud as Dean attempted a scowl at Sam, but couldn't help the conceding smirk that crossed his face.

* * *

They stopped twice on the way down, Morgan didn't even bother asking if she could join Bryan and Claire, knowing the answer. Lunch was quick and at the second stop they only filled the cars up again and were back on the road in a few minutes. Dean was determined to make good time, barely slowing down as they passed Fox and his children in the black Jeep entering Louisiana.

More hunters were found on the highway as they drove through and by the time they reached the outskirts of New Orleans a small caravan trailed behind the Impala and Grand National.

The motel Dean pulled into was reminiscent of every other they'd ever stayed at, but it did advertise a pool, though Morgan was rather disgusted by the idea considering the state of the building, not that they'd have the opportunity to use it anyway. After checking in, Dean pulled around to the backside of the large motel, followed shortly by Fox as a couple more hunters trailed into the office to get rooms.

"They must think there's a truck driver convention," Sam commented with a light chuckle.

"Lumberjack," Dean said.

"Jody's here," Sam pointed to the sheriff truck and Dean pulled next to it.

Bryan parked his Buick next to the Impala and they pushed the doors open as the motel door in front of them opened and Jody leaned in the doorway with a smile.

"You made it," she said.

"Didn't think we would?" Dean scoffed lightly as he and Jody hugged.

"Hi Jody," Sam embraced her next, "good t'see you."

"You too, Sam," Jody grinned and her eyes fell on Claire, "Hey, girly."

"Hey," Claire said, shifting her gaze between Jody and the ground.

"Missed you," Jody said quietly, taking a step towards the blonde girl, who just nodded before they wrapped their arms around each other and Claire buried her face in Jody's neck.

"I missed you too," Claire said when the pulled away and quickly wiped her eyes, "I'm, uh, really sorry about, y'know."

"Me too," Jody nodded, wiping her eyes as well, and took a deep breath before smiling at Morgan, "Hey, kiddo, how y'been?"

"Pretty good, Jody," Morgan said, returning the hug she was offered.

"And I don't know you," Jody turned to Bryan, standing a bit awkwardly to the side.

"Yeah, hi, I'm Bryan," he stepped forward with his hand out stretched.

"Nice to meet you, Bryan," Jody smiled at him, but shifted her gaze to Sam and Dean questioningly after shaking the young man's hand.

"We'll get'cha all caught up," Dean smirked.

They didn't have much time to tell Jody the entire story, but covered Bryan's family and what happened at the high school, Jody looked personally grieved at the brief mention of his mother. Bryan was proud of his family, that much was clear in his tone when he spoke, but he'd grown up in the hunting world and was careful to keep his remarks direct, never revealing more than absolutely necessary.

It wasn't long before a few other hunters knocked on their door, ready to take Sam and Dean's directions. Bryan had been a bit begrudging to not be included in the fight, but when Dean had brought up the change of plans back in the mountain mansion, the young man's jaw had actually dropped open, he still looked surprised when the oldest Winchester repeated himself at the motel. Morgan had tried to catch his eyes both times, but Bryan seemed to be actively avoiding her gaze.

She was ready. The spell book and ingredients were packed in her backpack, she was confident in her ability to speak the strange Orkney dialect and, at Dean's final go ahead, Morgan slipped the straps on her shoulders and followed the group of machete armed hunters from the room. Thankfully the back parking lot was abandoned, because their parade was rather terrifyingly strange.

"Where you goin'?" Dean asked as Morgan headed towards Bryan's Buick.

"I thought I'm with him," she said innocently, it was best he thought it was an honest mistake.

"Afterwards," Dean reminded, raising a single eyebrow.

"Oh," Morgan shrugged nonchalantly and pulled opened the rear door of the Impala, it was worth a shot.

All the hunters were pumping each other up, punching each other in the arms and whooping as they got in their beaten-up cars. Sam and Dean didn't partake, nor to Jody or Fox.

"We'll see you guys in a bit," Max said as he and Alicia stood near the open door of their room.

"Yeah, they'll be back in an hour or so," Dean said, finishing his statement with a rather threatening glare to Bryan, who nodded as he dropped behind the wheel of his coupe.

Morgan waved and shut her door just as her brothers were sliding onto the front seat. Again, Dean led, though different groups began to turn off behind them as they continued, spreading out to arrive on all sides of the estate the Alpha Vampire had been pinpointed at. Her stomach started to twist as they got closer, her palms were clammy, but a part of her loved the anticipation, the nerves, the adrenaline.

When they reached a rather dark and barren stretch of road, Dean pulled over into a clearing and behind a line of trees to hide the dark car from anyone who might pass, the Buick and two other rusty cars pulled behind and next to him. Morgan's legs were shaking a bit as she got out, clutching her backpack straps tightly.

"The house is through that way," Dean jerked his head at the woods, "We're less than a quarter mile from the door, any closer they're gonna smell us before we get this done," they all nodded in agreement and Dean checked his phone, "Everybody's in position."

"You ready?" Sam asked Morgan and she nodded, slipping her bag off and unzipping it on the ground.

She'd memorized the spell, but opened the book anyway, there was no room for error. Morgan pulled her bag of witch tools out, uncinching the cord and grabbing the mustard seeds and rose essence, standard ingredients she always had, before taking the paper sack Crowley had brought from her bag. It didn't take long to mix the ingredients exactly as the spell indicated, swirling them in the large bowl with her finger as the words poured from her lips with conviction.

"Dýr eggtog! Dreyri lá eitr! Dýr eggtog! Dreyri lá eitr! Dýr eggtog! Dreyri lá eitr! Bani dýr bani!"

The heat building in her hands shot out as flames in the bowl and burst into the air, soaring away like red clouds of lightning.

Everyone was silent, but a few moments later the stillness was broken with screams and shouting through the trees.

"Let's go," Dean jerked his head at Sam who motioned for Claire to stay behind him, grabbed Morgan in a quick hug with a kiss on her head, and led the stone faced blond and four other hunters into the woods as the oldest turned on his sister and Bryan, "Back t'the motel, right now. I can't believe I just said that. I'm serious, no detours and  _no_   _funny_  business," he directed this mostly at the young man, "Am I clear?"

"Yes, sir," Bryan's response overtook Morgan's as they both nodded at him.

"Go," he jerked his head at the Grand National and Bryan turned immediately to get back in the car.

"Dean," Morgan threw her arms around him before he could take a step to leave, "Please be safe, I love you."

"I love you too, Sweetie," he squeezed her and planted a kiss on her hair, "Be good," and with that, her brother turned and hurried into the forest after the group.

"C'mon, Baby," Bryan called, turning over the engine and slamming his door.

Morgan shoved everything into her backpack and hurried into the car, smiling at Bryan when she closed the door, but he was concentrating on the rearview mirror and already starting to back out of the clearing. She buckled her seatbelt, but continued to stare at him, finally gaining a glance before he concentrated on the empty road again.

"What?" Bryan asked.

"Where're you goin'?" Morgan asked.

"Disneyworld," he scoffed, giving her another sideways glance, "Y'know damn well where we're goin'."

"We should stick around f'r'a bit," she reasoned, "They might need us."

"You're insane," he scoffed in disbelief, "That is the exact opposite of what Dean told us t'do."

"Yeah, but Dean always says that," Morgan shook her head.

"Okay well, this time that's what's happenin'," Bryan told her flatly.

"Bryan," she sighed, "he won't know if we-"

"No," he said firmly, "We're goin' back t'the motel."

Morgan turned out the window to hide the pout on her face, trying not to cross her arms, though they were by the time they arrived in the back of the crappy motel parking lot.

"C'mon," Bryan patted her leg after he'd parked, "Don't be mad at me f'r'tryin' t'keep you safe."

"Yeah, well, I like t'try 'n keep them safe too," Morgan said.

"Baby," he sighed, "please don't take this the wrong way, because you help,  _a lot_ , but your brothers've been doin' this a long time 'n they seemed t'do pretty well."

She felt her eyes narrow on him and grabbed her backpack as she pushed the door open.

"Baby," Bryan tried, but she slammed the door and stalked towards the motel room, and he hurried to follow her, "Morgan, c'mon, listen," he grabbed her by the hand and turned her to face him, though she kept her eyes down, "I didn't mean they don't need you, they do, they know it, I know it and you know it," he lifted her chin gently, "but they love you 'n don't need you runnin' into danger, they've got it, you've gotta trust them."

"I do," she mumbled.

"Do you?" he raised an eyebrow and she nodded, "Then y'gotta trust they know what they're doin'. You gave 'em a hell'uv'an edge tonight, let 'em take it home. Dean's got the Colt, they're unstoppable."

She nodded, believing his words and the corners of her mouth tugged up a little, Bryan seemed to take the twitch as an invitation, but Morgan welcomed his lips on hers. Running her fingers through his short brown hair and drawing him deeper into the kiss as she raised a bit on her toes, feeling his hands around her waist tighten, pulling her torso to his as they slid down to her hips.

"I think this counts as funny stuff," he whispered between a kiss.

"No," Morgan shook her head and kissed him, "this is definitely," she kissed him again, "very," again, "very," again, "serious," and Bryan grabbed the back of her head mostly gently, but a little rough, and kissed her hard, Morgan's entire body tingled with the wonderful sensation.

"Baby," he sighed when they eventually stopped, "I'd love t'do this all night with you, but we should get inside."

"Five more minutes," she crooned, pecking him on the lips and earning a small grin.

"No, really," Bryan insisted, "we gotta get in there, it's warded."

"Just mister rule follower tonight," she rolled her eyes.

"Sorry to disappoint, your brattiness," Bryan smirked with a little bow and gestured towards the motel room.

Alicia opened the door after a quick knock.

"Hey," Max looked up from the bed he was reclined on, "How'd it go?"

"Spell worked," Morgan shrugged, dropping her backpack on the ground by the table, "not sure about the rest."

"They'll be fine," Bryan said firmly.

"They will," Max add brightly, but an awkward shift in gaze to his sister preceded him sliding off the bed, "Hey, we're gonna go back t'our room 'n grab some snacks, we'll be back."

"Hurry up," Bryan ordered, sounding far too much like Dean and Morgan rolled her eyes at him before departing for the bathroom.

Morgan reasonably knew Bryan must be right, but couldn't shake her concern, always the same when her brothers went on a hunt, but this time Claire was there too and the Alpha Vampire was their target. All of which made her far more nervous and, on her way out of the bathroom, Morgan grabbed her backpack to take her crystals out, but they weren't there. Frantically, she searched all the pockets again, her stomach twisting with fear they were lost somehow.

"It's too early," Bryan said and Morgan looked at him with confusion, "to scry, Dean told y'not to 'til one AM, it ain't even close."

"Did you take my crystals?" she asked quietly.

"I'll give 'em back at one," he told her.

"Screw you!" Morgan's temper flared as she lunged at the young man, "Those are mine! And it's my family out there and if I wanna check on 'em I have that right!"

"Not tonight you don't," Bryan growled, seemingly unintimidated by the angry witch scowling at him.

"Are you seriously being like this?" she shook her head incredulously.

"Like what, Morgan?" he asked bitterly, "Listening to the orders I was given?"

"You're being ridiculous!" Morgan accused.

" _You're_  being ridiculous," Bryan said firmly, "Cut it out."

Her eyes narrowed at him and a sneaky idea entered her mind as she thought hard about her crystals and the little leather pouch they lived in, willing them into her hand from wherever they were. Her right fist bulged with the little mass that had appeared and she kept it clutched at her side, her eyes still locked in a glare on Bryan, who she was sure hadn't noticed anything. Offering her best attempt at a conceding sigh, Morgan let her gaze drop and pushed passed him towards the bathroom.

"Where y'goin'?" Bryan asked softly.

"Away from you," she muttered, but he caught her free hand and pulled her to face him again.

"Baby," Bryan's tone was gentle, "don't be mad at me, I-" his words stopped as he tried to take her other hand and she wrenched away her tight fist, fixing her with narrow eyes, Bryan snatched her arm and glared at the bits of leather protruding from between her fingers, "Seriously?!"

"Leave me alone!" Morgan cried, trying to keep her grip firm as he forced the bag from her hand, "Stop!" she turned, trying to use her body weight to pull her arm from him, but gasped as a hard swat connected with her bottom and released her crystals in surprise.

"You stop," Bryan's scolding words had accompanied the smack, but his eyes went wide as she turned to him with tears welling in hers, "Baby, I-"

But whatever he had to say was interrupted by the bathroom door slamming in his face as Morgan hid herself behind it and slid to the floor, sobbing.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Love your feedback and can't wait to hear what you've thought of this chapter! =)


	47. Chapter 47

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Here it is! The end of Morgan's Second story, please watch out for "Legends Never Die" later THIS WEEK
> 
> So yeah Bryan took the rules a little far, but I think he realized that about a millisecond too late. I think he just gets very serious about any job he's given, especially concerning the safety of someone he cares about and sometimes he acts before he thinks, doesn't sound familiar at all. Yes, we can all agree the kid's a bit like Dean ;) Though trust me, he's his own man and we will see that, eventually. Speaking of Bryan though because one reviewer thought he was 16 like Morgan (who at this point is closer to being 17) so I figured I'd clarify that he's a little older, though agreed still annoyingly mature for his age
> 
> Thank you for the reviews on the last chapter and through this whole story! I love that you love this! Let's pick up where we left off...

"Baby," Bryan knocked softly on the door, "I'm sorry, c'mon please talk t'me."

"Go away, Bryan!" Morgan yelled, wiping her cheeks of tears as her breathing calmed.

"I'm really sorry," he pled, "I just wanted t'get y'r'attention, I didn't, I shouldn't've, I wasn't thinkin', Morgan."

She sniffed, trying to hold onto her anger, but part of her knew she'd been wrong. Bryan had no right to do that, though a small voice in her head reasoned it was probably the only thing that would've gotten her attention so effectively. Morgan pushed off the ground and checked her appearance in the mirror, her cheeks were pink from crying, but her eyes weren't as puffy, though still glistening with tears.

"Baby, please," Bryan knocked again and she took a deep breath before opening the door, the handsome young man looked very apologetic as he leaned in the frame, "I'm really sorry."

"I'm not tryin' t'be a brat," she mumbled, "I'm just nervous, 'n y'r'bein' mean."

He hung his head before nodding and returning his gaze to hers, "I'm not tryin' t'be, but I'm nervous too, 'n frustrated."

"Why are you frustrated?" she asked, leaning on the frame with him.

"I wanna be there, Morgan," Bryan admitted, "I get why y'r'brothers don't want me out there, but that fight, that's personal, 'n I'm missin' it."

She bit her lip and nodded her understanding, she hadn't even considered how Bryan was feeling about the night and felt guilt swirl in her gut.

"I'm sorry," Morgan smirked sadly, looking up at him through her long eyelashes, "I know y'r'just doin' what you were told 'n I didn't think about any'a that."

"I just wanna keep you safe," he said, pulling her into his arms and planting a kiss on her forehead, "so stop tryin' t'do the opposite of that, okay? Please!"

Morgan giggled lightly and nodded into his shirt, but the opening door stole both their attention and Max and Alicia walked in with a grocery bag and a case of soda.

"Everything okay?" Alicia asked, her brow slightly furrowed at Morgan.

"Yeah," she nodded as she and Bryan pulled away from each other, "What'd y'got?"

"Cheetos, Pop Tarts, Beef Jerky," Max listed as he dumped the grocery bag on one bed, "the motel lock-down necessities. I'm gonna look in on my Dad in a minute, or did you already?"

Morgan grimaced as she looked at Bryan, who sighed with an amused head shake.

"I'm supposed to wait 'til one," she said.

"Why?" Max scoffed.

"'Cause Dean doesn't want her gettin' all twisted 'n do somethin' dangerous," Bryan directed his comment almost entirely at Morgan.

"Oh," Max shrugged, "okay, well I'm gonna."

"Could you-" Morgan bit her lips on the request for him to look in on her family and averted her eyes to her boots.

"I can," Max nodded with a grin and Morgan smiled at him in appreciation.

"Max," Bryan began, "just wait, please?"

"You're not in charge'a me, man," Max said, "My Dad's out there 'n if I wanna check on him I can."

"I'm not tellin' y'not to," Bryan growled, "I'm just askin' you t'wait, okay? We're all worried, but what good is seein' what kind'a trouble they might be in if we can't do anything about it?"

"Maybe you can't do anything," Max scoffed and Morgan couldn't pull Bryan back from taking a few steps forward, towering over the other young man.

"What're you gonna do?" Bryan asked bitterly, "I'm the one with a car here 'n I promise you  _she_  isn't teleporting anyone tonight, so unless you gotta broom I suggest y'get comfy."

"Are you goin' f'r'a personal best on bein' an asshole?" Max asked angrily, taking a step back.

"If I gotta," Bryan nodded curtly.

"Whatever," Max rolled his eyes, shoving his crystals in his front pocket and peering around Bryan at Morgan, "Y'r'boyfriend's a jackass."

"Tell me about it," she muttered, meeting Bryan's scowl with a bitter gaze of her own.

"Make me the bad guy," he shrugged hard, returning his attention to Max, "I don't care, I'm in charge'a makin' sure she's safe, 'n since you're both here that goes f'r'you too."

"We're seventeen, dude," Max protested.

"And I'm eighteen," Bryan smirked, "guess I win."

"Oh, you win alright," Max agreed, "number one douchebag, right here."

Alicia covered her mouth to try and hide the giggle that escaped, even Morgan smiled a little in amusement, but she took a deep breath and stepped between the young men.

"Guys," she shifted her gaze from Bryan to Max, "stop. Max, I'm not happy about it, but Bryan's right, whatever we see is just gonna scare us, I know, I've done it, but there's nothin' we can do. We gotta trust them, they've got a good plan, I got rid of a lotta vamps before they even ambushed 'em, 'n anything you see is just gonna mess with y'r'head 'cause y'r'nothin' but a fly on the wall, y'can't help."

"I'm not waitin' 'til one," Max said flatly.

"It's almost eleven thirty now," Morgan glanced at the microwave clock and then at Bryan, "Midnight?"

"Fine," Bryan nodded.

"Hey, guys," Alicia said brightly and they all turned to her sitting on the bed with the remote control and her phone, "I figured out how to stream on this TV. Parks 'n Rec or Stranger Things?"

* * *

_Parks and Recreation_ was alright, thought Morgan didn't really start enjoying it until she realized the guy from the  _Jurassic Park_  movie she, Sam and Dean had watched was in it, he was funny and very cute. Still, her and Max's eyes continued to flit towards the microwave until 11:59 when they turned to each other.

"You go first," Morgan said and Max gave her a small smile as he pulled the pouch of crystals from his jeans pocket and settled at the table.

Morgan was fascinated watching him arrange them a bit differently than she was used to, but the words were exactly the same and she shivered hearing him speak them, feeling her own power throb in her veins.

Max was bent over the table for several minutes, muttering occasionally, but mostly still until he lifted his head and looked at his sister with wide, nervous eyes.

"I didn't see anything," Max said quietly, shock draining the color from his face, "I couldn't find him, there wasn't anything there."

"What?" Alicia took a step towards her brother and put her hands on his arms, "What does that mean? Max?!"

"I don't know!" he shouted as the door opened, Claire and Jody walked in covered in blood and very sullen, followed by Dean limping in with his arm around Sam's shoulders.

Morgan took a step, but stopped, something was very wrong.

"Where's my Dad?!" Alicia cried, sobbing hard as the four hunters dropped their heads, Max wrapped his arms around his sister as her knees gave way, though he hid his face in her hair while only barely managing to hold her up.

Morgan's stomach twisted, her throat tightened and tears were falling down her face before her eyes even stung. Asa Fox was dead.

"What happened?" Max managed slowly after pulling his sister to sit on the bed, holding her as she sobbed into his shirt, his eyes were damp and his tone was pained, but determination burned in his honey colored eyes.

"We don't have t'talk about it now," Dean shook his head.

"Bullshit!" Max gritted his teeth on a sob, "Tell us!"

Dean looked at Sam, who looked at Jody, who sighed at Claire before nodding and pulling a chair from the table to sit in front of the twins. The others moved into the room, though a respectful distance away from the distraught siblings, and Morgan's eyes widened at Dean's severe limp, but he shook his head slightly with a face that told her he was fine.

"Max, Alicia," Jody began softly, she too had tears in her eyes and looked like she'd been crying hard, "I am so sorry. Your Dad, he was a great hunter," she paused and dipped her head, putting a tightly balled fist to her mouth for a moment before continuing in a shaky voice, "He saved people, a lotta people, but tonight, tonight I couldn't-"

"Jody," Dean interrupted, pushing off Sam and limping forward painfully, "you couldn't've done anything, please see that," he put an arm around the Sheriff's shoulders and Jody broke into sobs on his flannel.

Dean looked at Sam, who stepped up and continued explaining to the twins, and subsequently Morgan and Bryan, "We found the Alpha, a few men got lost on the way, but we took out a ton'a vamps, y'r'Dad, man, he was on fire," Sam tried to grin at the twins, but Alicia's head was still buried in her brother's chest, though her sobbing had quieted, and Max simply glared at Sam impatiently, "we got to the Alpha, he's, uh, he was a tough one, things got a little, outta control, 'n y'r'Dad, well the Alpha got him. I'm so sorry, Max, Alicia, really."

Max just nodded slowly, his jaw set angrily and he blinked hard a few times before clearing his throat, "But y'got him, the Alpha?"

"Yup," Dean affirmed and Max nodded curtly, though his face remained the same.

Morgan didn't know what to say, deciding it was best she didn't in the silent room, but her hand found Bryan's and she slipped her fingers around his and squeezed gently. He returned the gesture and Morgan felt tears welling in her eyes again, leaning a bit closer to him, unable to look away from the traumatic scene. Fox had been a good man, trying to be a good Dad and here, in his death, his two children grieved him terribly, it was heart wrenching to witness, even worse there was nothing they could do. Morgan found herself strangely grateful to Bryan for making them wait to scry, at least Max hadn't seen his Dad murdered by the father of vampires.

They'd brought his body back and had located a place they could build a pyre, since no one had any intentions of even trying to sleep, they decided to have a hunter's funeral that night. Max and Alicia excused themselves to the room they'd been sharing with Fox, Jody and Claire followed to the woman's room to wash up after the blonde grabbed her duffel bag and Sam hopped in the shower as Dean eased onto a chair with his damaged leg extended.

"What happened?" Morgan asked.

"Vampire," Dean said, chuckling weakly at his own bad joke and continued at the scowl his sister gave him, "landed on me from the second balcony, big sucker too."

"Broken?" she asked.

"Maybe a little," he shrugged, "a lotta things cracked, one of 'em could'a been my leg."

"Le'me see," she knelt in front of her brother and carefully began rolling his jeans up.

Dean inhaled sharply, "Stop! I'll do it! I'll do it!"

"Quit bein' a baby," Morgan sighed and Dean attempted a funny face at her as he reached for the cuff of his pants, but it quickly became pained.

She had to hand it to him though, despite his obvious agony, he managed to pull his blood-soaked jeans up to his knee, pointing at his upper shin where it was already swelling badly, "That's about where it hurts."

"I can try the spell f'r'breaks," she offered, "if it's not broken I don't know if it'll do anything."

"Go for it," Dean shrugged, "Bryan, would'ja get me a beer?"

"What're y'chasin'?" Bryan asked as he walked towards the small refrigerator and Dean smiled.

"There's some whiskey in my bag," he jerked his head at the green duffel.

Morgan put her hands close to Dean's injured leg, "Sanandum contritos!"

A sickening crack echoed in the room as Dean yelled and threw his head back in pain.

"Better?" Morgan asked when he'd brought his head back down.

"Mmhmm," he nodded, biting his lips and took the bottles of beer and whiskey Bryan offered, "Thank you," with his hands full and caps on both drinks, Dean stared between them and then at his sister, who smirked and the caps popped off, "And thank you," he took a sip of the whiskey first, quickly followed by the beer.

"Don't mention it," she said while standing, "What can I do?"

"With what?" Dean asked in a slightly hoarse voice.

"Fox," Morgan said sadly, "How can I help?"

Dean nodded sullenly, clearing his throat, "We gotta wrap the body, but you don't wanna help with that."

"I do," she said, "I mean, I don't, but I wanna help, I need somethin' t'do."

"Better it's done before Max and Alicia see him," Dean agreed, "let me get washed up 'n we'll get on it."

"All yours," Sam opened the door and walked out of the bathroom in boxer-briefs, rubbing his hair with a towel.

Dean stood tentatively on his leg, testing his weight before nodding satisfactorily at his sister and walking into the bathroom. Sam was dragging on a pair of clean jeans and Dean kicked his brother's bloody clothes out of the bathroom before closing the door.

"Are you okay?" Morgan asked.

"Yeah," Sam nodded, "little messed up, but I'll be fine. How was everything here?"

Morgan glanced at Bryan, who's ears turned red, before turning to her brother, "Fine, y'know, 'til now."

"Yeah," Sam agreed sadly, "Jody knows them a little better, Fox 'n her have been friends a while, she's gonna take Max 'n Alicia to their Grandma's up in Canada. 'Course somebody still needs let Mrs. Fox know about her son," the last words seemed to be spoken to himself and Sam hung his head over his duffel before slipping a shirt on.

Morgan and Bryan looked awkwardly at each other and the young man excused himself for some air, she followed him.

"Bryan, are you okay?" Morgan asked as she shut the motel door behind them.

He scoffed lightly, "Not the one you should be askin'."

"Well, I am," she said.

"Just got a lot on my mind," he admitted, pulling a hand across the back of his neck as he leaned on the hood of his Buick, "I'm glad the Alpha's dead, I wish I could'a been part'a it, but now Fox, 'n Max 'n Alicia, I mean, this life just sucks sometimes."

"Yeah," she nodded, settling next to him, "it really does."

For a few minutes, they just sat quietly in the cold night air as Morgan contemplated going to Max and Alicia's room, but her feet wouldn't move, which she decided was probably best. Claire and Jody left a room down the sidewalk and the blonde approached her friends as Jody stopped at the twins' door and knocked, entering after a muffled call.

"Hey," Claire said and Morgan pushed off the car, wrapping her arms around her friend in a desperate need for comfort which Claire didn't refuse, squeezing Morgan tightly.

"How are you?" she asked after letting Claire go.

"Fine," she shrugged, "I was just outside back up, I didn't see anything, only killed one vamp."

"Good," Bryan grumbled, earning a furrowed brow of confusion from both girls, "Y'didn't need t'be any closer, the Alpha's no joke."

"Didn't say he was," Claire growled.

"Don't," Morgan shook her head, "just, he's in a mood."

"Don't take y'r'lovers quarrel out on me," Claire said to Bryan.

"Claire," Morgan stepped between them and lowered her voice, "it's not that, well, maybe a little, but he's just upset."

"Well, he's not the only one," Claire said angrily, directing her comment mostly at Bryan, who pushed off the hood of his car and walked down the sidewalk away from them.

"C'mon," Morgan sighed at her friend.

"What'd you two fight about?" Claire asked.

"I tried t'get him to circle the place, just in case y'know?" Morgan explained and Claire nodded in immediate understanding, "but he wouldn't, 'n when we got back here he took my crystals-"

"What?!" Claire exclaimed, "That's bullshit!"

"Dean didn't want me scryin' till one at the earliest," Morgan shrugged, "So we kinda got into it about that 'n he well, we worked it out," she decided it was best to not tell her friend about Bryan's impulsive reaction before she'd slammed the bathroom door in his face.

"He still shouldn't've taken them," Claire said bitterly.

"Yeah," Morgan nodded, "he was tryin' t'do the right thing I guess, he's just kind'a one tracked sometimes 'n it's gotta be by the book."

"Doesn't sound like anybody we know," Claire scoffed.

"You have no idea," Morgan rolled her eyes.

"Hey, girls," Sam walked outside, closing the door behind him, "Where's Bryan?"

"Needed t'clear his head," Morgan gestured down the sidewalk Bryan had walked and Sam nodded.

"Well, uh," Sam's eyes shifted to the sheriff's truck in the parking lot, "we can get started. I'd really like Max 'n Alicia t'not see this if we can help it."

Morgan and Claire nodded and followed Sam to the back of Jody's truck, he lowered the tailgate and Morgan's stomach lurched at the large lump of blankets. Sam's hand stalled a moment before he pulled one of the blankets, revealing Fox's dirty boots first and finally his still, lifeless face. Morgan put a hand to her mouth and cried, it hadn't seemed real, but now, now there was no refuting, Asa Fox was dead.

"Sweetie, I'm sorry," Sam pulled her away from the truck, but Morgan wrenched away before wrapping her arms around him.

"No," she shook her head, "I'm fine, it's just, he was so nice."

"He was," her brother nodded, rubbing a large hand up and down her back, "You don't hafta help, we've got this."

"I want to," she whispered, hardening her resolve before approaching the truck bed again and laying a gentle hand on Fox's cold shin while bowing her head in respect for a moment.

Sam popped the trunk of the Impala, digging around until he pulled out a large wad of white linen, she'd never seen it before, but wanted to cry out again at the proof that her brothers were constantly prepared for death. Morgan forced her eyes to Fox's face again, taking a deep breath as she waved her hand and watched the dirt and blood disappear, making him look less dead, almost as if he was sleeping.

"If you can lift him, I'll wrap," Sam offered.

"I've got this," Morgan said, taking the wrapping from her brother.

"Wait!" Max called, rushing towards them from the room he'd just left.

"Max," Sam stepped forward, but the young man pushed passed him.

"I gotta say good-bye," Max's voice broke as he looked at his father, lying still on a few blankets in the bed of Jody's truck.

Morgan put an arm around Max, trying to give him some comfort, though she couldn't imagine anything would help the young man at the moment.

"Do you want a minute alone?" Sam asked.

Max shook his head, "I was pissed at him, I didn't even say good-bye when he left," tears fell down his cheeks and Morgan couldn't help as her eyes stung and throat tightened, trying to hold it together for him, but as Max inhaled sharply and sobbed, she couldn't stop the emotions and cried with him.

It was a minute or so before they calmed themselves, Max released his tight grip on Morgan's shoulder, wiping his face and giving her a small grin of appreciation.

"Does Alicia want to, before we?" Morgan asked, gesturing the white linen.

"No," Max shook his head, "she can't handle this, the funeral's gonna be bad enough."

Sam nodded his understanding, "We're gonna get him ready."

Max looked at Sam with teary eyes and then at Morgan, extending his hands for the linen and she handed it to him. The witches understood each other in silent grief and Morgan raised her hands at Fox, raising his body carefully into the air. The wad of linen levitated out of Max's hands, unraveling itself as it wound around his father's boots upward in a slow, deliberate motion. When the end of the wrap settled around Fox's head, Morgan gently lowered him back onto the blankets and her hand found Max's, squeezing it lightly in encouragement, solidarity and appreciation of the agony he was in, he squeezed back.

* * *

Fox's funeral wasn't the only one, and though the decreased group of hunters greeted each other in the forest, they dispersed to build pyres with their people for the ones of them they had lost. It seemed everyone had lost someone and Morgan found herself saddened even for Roy and Walt as their heads bowed with each sniffle.

Max said very little and Alicia didn't speak. They lit the pyre together, standing with their arms around each other as they watched the flames grow over their father's body.

Dean put his arm around Morgan's shoulders and she leaned into him, feeling her throat tightening as tears sprang to her eyes. She'd never known her father, and her Mother's death had produced an array of complex emotions, but the twins, despite their complicated relationship with Fox, were devastated by his death. It was painful to watch their silent agony.

Jody was leading the twins to their Grandma's house and, when the funeral finished, Alicia hopped into the passenger seat of Fox's black Jeep without a word to anyone.

"She gonna be okay?" Dean asked.

"Yeah," Max nodded, "she'll get there."

"Take care'a yourself," Sam said, shaking the young man's hand.

Max said good-bye to all of them, hugging Morgan tightly for a few moments.

"Text me," she said, "I'm here if y'need me."

"Thanks," he nodded, forcing a grin at everyone before turning to get behind the wheel of his Dad's Jeep.

Jody waved and led the twins out of the clearing, leaving Bryan, Claire and Winchesters alone by the dark muscle cars.

"A'right, kids," Dean clapped his hands, "let's get goin'. Bryan y'need gas?"

"Yeah, I could top off," Bryan nodded curtly, turning away from Morgan and avoiding her eyes as he jumped in his car.

Morgan felt a pang in her gut and turned to Claire with confusion, but her friend just shook her head with a tight smirk before getting in the passenger side of the Grand National. She was actually relieved to slide onto the familiar black leather behind her brothers, feeling a warm anger bubbling at the young man following behind them.

Dean pulled into a gas station just before they left town and Bryan's Buick rumbled up to the other side of the pump.

"Hey, I gotta use the bathroom," Morgan pushed the backdoor open.

"Alright, hurry up," Dean said, taking the nozzle from the pump.

Claire caught Morgan's eyes, "Hey, me too, hold up."

Bryan started pumping gas, paying very close attention to the nozzle.

"Hey," Morgan stepped close to him and spoke in a low voice, "You got a problem?"

"Why would I?" he asked without looking at her, "Like, it should bother me that my girlfriend's holdin' another guy's hand 'n shit?"

"His Dad just died!" Morgan exclaimed louder than she intended and Bryan winced.

"I know," he said quietly, glancing at her, "It just bothered me."

"Well, get over it," she growled and turned to stalk towards the outdoor bathroom entrance with Claire, who had to hurry to catch up and waited until they were out of earshot to speak.

"Hey," Claire began, following her into the bright room, "I'm talkin' t'him, he's just messed up right now, he didn't mean that."

"Oh, I'm sure he did," Morgan scoffed.

"Morgan," Claire sighed, "he's really not-"

The abrupt end to her friend's sentence made Morgan turn and her heart stopped, watching Claire crumple to the tile floor at Dagon's feet. The demon's yellow eyes flashed at her as she smiled sickeningly, taking a quick step forward and seizing the stunned witch by the wrist.

"Life lesson, doll," Dagon sneered, "never send boys to do a woman's job."

Morgan couldn't even scream before she felt her surroundings pushing in on her, spinning away from the bathroom, her unconscious friend on the floor and the men waiting for them in the gas station parking lot.

_**OKAY, I'M READY- TELL ME HOW MUCH YOU HATE ME, BUT DON'T PRETEND SUPERNATURAL HASN'T ENDED A SEASON LIKE THIS ONCE (OR SEVERAL TIMES) seriously though whatever you have to say, I look forward to your feedback :)** _

**_"_ LEGENDS NEVER DIE _" COMING SOON! THIS ISN'T OVER!_**


	48. DELETED SCENE

_**A few of my readers have already seen this, it was a 'gift' of sorts to those that actively review Morgan's story, but it's been quite a while since this scene and its kinda cute so I thought I'd put it up for others- I have quite a few reviewers who don't have profiles so unfortunately they weren't able to get it the first time around. This is a deleted scene from Chapter 36 where Morgan, Claire and Sam are in the shooting range- all fluff ;)** _

Sam pushed the heavy metal door of the gun range open and flipped on the lights, the dim bulbs surrounding the cinderblock room hummed to life. Claire followed him across the room to the cabinet and took a pistol he offered before Sam removed his own from the waistband of his jeans. Morgan looked at one of the metal chairs by the table and decided she'd rather stand.

"So, what'd we got?" Claire asked as Sam dug through a large box in the bottom of the cabinet.

"Clay pigeons," he shrugged, standing up with a stack of beige discs in one large hand.

"Who's first?" Morgan floated the discs from Sam's hand, he snatched at them before realizing they hadn't fallen and shook his head at his sister with a small scowl, "Sorry."

"Well hold on," Sam shook his head, "Those things shatter, no body's losin' an eye, we gotta have somethin' else."

"There's a slew'a empty beer bottles," Claire smirked.

"Shattered glass spraying everywhere somehow seems worse," Sam scoffed lightly.

"How 'bout this?" Morgan stepped forward to the low counter and spread her arms wide, "Scuto suscípiet!"

A glaze of purple mist extended from her fingers to the walls they were facing, quickly forming a transparent barrier, meeting to the middle where the young witch stood.

"Cool," Sam nodded, "what is it?"

"Basic protection shield," Morgan stuck her hand through the light purple haze, "Check it out," her hand easily moved through towards the targets, but she had to pull hard to get it back through, "it's basically a one-way wall."

Sam stuck his hand through the wall and she saw his eyes widen as he strained to get it back, "Wow, yeah, uh, that'll work."

"Did I mention how happy it makes me that y'r'a witch again?" Claire smiled at her friend.

"Makes two of us," Morgan giggled.

"Three," Sam shrugged when they both looked at him with disbelief, "Hey, y'know I love y'know matter what'cha are, but magic doesn't hurt."

Morgan couldn't help wrapping her arms around Sam's middle, "Thank you f'r'sayin' that."

"It's true," he patted her back as they let go, "A'right, are we gonna shoot some crap 'r what?"

Claire shoved the magazine into the gun she was holding with a solid click and Morgan coaxed the first clay pigeon from the top of the stack with a finger, giving both a sneaky smile as they got into position and sent the disc flying through the purple haze and across the target area. Two shots fired in rapid succession and the clay circle exploded a few feet in front of Sam, but none of the shrapnel passed the violet shield.

"Ready?" Morgan asked.

"Pull!" Claire yelled and the second disc didn't have a chance to make it in front of Sam.

**_Short, hopefully sweet ;) More coming soon in Legends Never Die! And if you're a Marvel fan please check out my Guardian's of the Galaxy story Grownin' Up Guardian_ **


End file.
